


A Thousand Times

by nuhcoal



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, F/F, Life Unexpected AU, Swan Queen Supernova 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-02 17:38:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 261,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15801390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuhcoal/pseuds/nuhcoal
Summary: Sixteen-year-old Leila has spent her entire life being passed around the foster system. She's never known her parents, never known much more than that she was born with a hole in her heart and nobody, even her birth parents, had wanted her. A few days before her sixteenth birthday, Leila is fed up with the system and ready to be emancipated. She travels to a town called Storybrooke, Maine in search of her birth parents who, according to her paperwork, had never legally signed their rights away. This endeavor leads her to Regina Mills and Emma Swan, two completely opposite women with a seemingly complicated history and one very important thing in common: their names on Leila’s birth certificate.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! You don't know me yet, but thank you for being here anyway. This story is the culmination of three years of writing, deleting, editing, panicking, and finally submitting for the first time here. 
> 
> This is a Swan Queen/Life Unexpected AU. It's loosely based, so you can definitely enjoy it all the same if you've never watched the other show (but you should watch it anyway because it's fantastic and because I said so.)
> 
> It has passed through many hands and sets of eyes in its time, none of whom it would have happened without, and so thank you to @wistfulwatcher, @triflingtribade, @agathasajax, @howdidigethereagain for your beta magic, cheerleading, and overall support.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you, @em_jaied, for making beautiful art that brings everything I've ever felt about this story to life. You were the perfect match!
> 
> And thank you, now and always, to my wife @livelovelearneg who co-wrote every chapter of this with me for the last three years, who has been writing with me for the last ten, and who still loves me anyway.

 

Two signatures were all that stood between her and freedom. That was the _very_ least they could do for her, after all. She hadn’t needed them for sixteen years — she certainly didn't need them now. She had spent years wishing they would show up and tell her it had all been a mistake, that they’d been looking for her as much as she had wanted them to be. But after so long, so long with nobody wanting her at all, she had all but given up on any hope of their return.

Gone were the long nights of crying and having to learn not to make a sound, feeling miserable and fervently wishing for the nightmare to end. The long nights filled with dreams of the best reunion, with kind words and hugs, and the fleeting feeling of _belonging_ that she had never known. Even if her birth mother had given Leila up with the intention of “doing what was best for her", in reality all she had done was what was best for herself. _Anything_ had to be better than the life she'd been living.

It was that single fact that made her the angry child that the government labeled her to be. Not a bad attitude or bad judgement or lack of sense; it was the lack of someone, _anyone_ , who cared enough to give her the chance she should have had since birth. The chance to love. To _be_ loved. To be sheltered from the bad in the world instead of thrust into it constantly. She had been set up to fail. This would change that. _She_ would change all of that. Starting today.

In theory, getting emancipated should have been an easy endeavor. She had been on her own forever, why should the state care where she lived now? They certainly hadn’t cared what was best for her for the last sixteen years. She was better off alone. After all, fending for yourself at sixteen had to be easier than doing it at five. Or ten. Or twelve. She felt more ready for adulthood now than any number could justify.

It hadn’t been hard to find them once she realized what she needed to do. Paperwork was the easiest part of the whole process. She couldn’t believe it when her social worker told her that no one had ever signed a permanent release of parental rights. How could she have been so alone if neither of them had technically, _legally_ given her away? It should’ve been simple for Fawn to get the forms signed and faxed back to her office in Boston, but if Leila had learned anything in life, it was that she had been in the hands of incompetent grown-ups for far too long. The only way for her to get what she needed was to go after it on her own.

So, there she sat, ignoring what felt like crickets hopping in her stomach on a four-hour bus ride to Storybrooke, Maine. _Who lives in a town with a name like Storybrooke, anyway?_

The bus was completely empty, save herself and the disinterested bus driver, as if no one ever went there. _I’m not coming back. I’m ending this, one way or another._

Wistfully, she sighed. Once she calmed herself enough, her mind continued to race with the one question that bothered her more than any other; what would she have learned from them? What would they have taught her? _I have learned from them_ , she thought with a twinge of resentment that she couldn’t help; she felt it every _single_ time she thought of them; of the parents she had never known — would never know, if things went her way. _They taught me that the only person in the world that I can count on is myself._ She grimaced; in that sense, hell, she was making them proud.

As the bus rolled past the “Welcome to Storybrooke” sign, she shook her head and shoved the back of her seat. _In and out,_ she thought. _I get my signatures and go right back and begin my life. Stop fantasizing. Stop caring. Stop wondering. They didn’t want you then, they won’t want you now. Two signatures, that’s it._

 

\--------

 

She had done some research before hopping onto a bus with Storybrooke as its final destination, but the repeated descriptions of “a quaint, coastal town” couldn’t have prepared her for how truly simple this place was. _This_ was where she had been born? It looked like the kind of town that didn't even have a mall. Not that overcrowded retail shopping was high on her list of priorities, but it was generally considered a staple in normal society.

The first stop on Leila’s admittedly feeble agenda was a place called The Rabbit Hole, which looked to be an older, cozy bar-and-grill sort of establishment. She walked into the bar and was unsurprised to find the only person there — a fit, blonde woman — coming through a door to what she assumed was a storeroom. She didn't notice her at first, the large keg she was carrying on her shoulder blocked her view and she cursed a little when she set the things down behind the bar. The woman took notice of her lingering anxiously near the door and nodded, raising her eyebrows slightly.

“Hey. Aren’t you a little young to be in a bar at..." she glanced down at her watch, "10:30?”

“Yeah, um... I’m looking for someone...” She answered with a glance around at the outdated chairs turned over onto the wooden tables, and then back at the woman across from her, white tank top already stained from a morning spent cleaning a messy bar and jeans slightly too tight for comfort. This couldn’t be her mother; other than the blonde curls pulled into a low, unkempt bun, she had absolutely _nothing_ in common with the woman, nor was she anything like the fuzzy image that had been floating around Leila’s imagination thus far. Clearly, this woman wasn’t _it_.

Arching her eyebrow, she scoffed, “Probably not you,” she began, a bit dismissively. “Do you know who an...” she looked at the form, not wanting to seem too desperate, as if she hadn't memorized and read the names a thousand times since she found out, "Emma Swan is?”

The woman sighed and placed the keg on the floor, turning to face her fully, squinting and tilting her head to one side. “You’re looking at her.” The dry reply made her shiver; clearly, the woman was less than impressed.

 _Good_ , she thought darkly. _I’m not here to impress._ Then again, this was her _mother_ for crying out loud. Leila breathed out, “Are you really?”

“Last time I checked,” Emma chuckled and smiled kindly, her brow then knitting in confusion. “Can I help you with something? Because I’m kind of all set as far as Girl Scout cookies are concerned, if that’s what you’re here for.” That confused Leila; _did she look young enough to be a girl scout_? “My two roommates are Thin Mint hoarders.”

“I heard that!” A warm voice descended a set of stairs in the corner of the room, where a slim, beautiful brunette suddenly burst in wearing so much bright red it made Leila’s eyes hurt. “And I resent it. ‘Hoarders’ is a strong term. We’re Thin Mint _enthusiasts._ ”

“Yeah, well join a fanclub and give my cabinets a break. We have room for literally nothing other than cookies right now.” Emma rolled her eyes knowingly at Leila, and then seemed to remember her manners. “Oh, uh... sorry, this is my roommate, Ruby. Ruby, this is...” she trailed off thoughtfully, her face screwing up in confusion, “wait, I still don’t know why the hell there’s a teenager in my bar on a Friday morning. What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.” Leila edged closer, still not quite sure if she believed this woman could possibly be half of her parental set. Not that she would have a problem with it, she just sort of expected to feel... something, if and when they finally met. The only thing she felt though, was disappointment and her heart rapidly threatening to beat its way out of her chest as she tried to get out her next sentence. “I’m not a Girl Scout, either. My name is Leila, and I’m kind of... your daughter?”

Emma stared at her blankly for a few seconds, then lightly shoved Ruby, who was laughing so hard, she had doubled over. Ruby collected herself and strode over to Leila, throwing an arm around her shoulder and swaying back and forth happily.

“That was a good one, kid. Who put you up to this? It’s not even April Fool’s day.” She turned to Emma, wolfish grin evident. “A good one, huh Em?”

“It’s _not_ a joke,” Leila insisted, shrugging out from under Ruby’s pseudo-hug, placing some distance between them, distrust raw on her body language, crossing her arms over her chest and making fists. “The name on my birth certificate clearly states Emma Swan.”

Emma smiled at her sadly. “Hey, I’m sure you’re a sweet kid, so I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I definitely have never given birth to a daughter.”

Leila narrowed her eyes in response and then smoothed her features into an expression of calm, the contrast clear. It was nothing against Ruby; the distrust was obviously directed towards any adult at that point, and so she reached around to the backpack she’d carried with her from Boston. From it, she retrieved a slightly crinkled stack of papers and walked to the nearest table, swiftly flipping one of the chairs onto the ground and depositing her paperwork onto the surface. She met both Emma’s and Ruby’s eyes and took in a deep breath before easing into the chair and launching into the speech she had allowed to roll around and develop in her head for the last few hours.

“Look, I get that this seems pretty ridiculous. Don’t worry, I'm not here for money or because I want a _mommy_. I just have this birth certificate with your name on it, with you and my other mother listed,” she pointed at the name over "Parent One" on the form, “meaning you two are the only people standing in my way of being emancipated.”

Emma cleared her throat and walked over to the table, turning over a chair and plopping down onto it next to Leila, making the girl shift a little uncomfortably. "Hold on, wait, did you say _other_ mom? Then you've really got the wrong Emma Swan because..." She chanced a glance at Ruby, who was smirking at her from behind the bar, "I haven't been with a woman since before college, and even if you _could_ happen biologically, I would know if I'd given a kid up for adoption. I'm really sorry."

Leila huffed out impatiently, “Okay, here’s the deal. I don’t care if you’re actually my mother or not. _Your_ name is on these forms, so if this is what the state wants, I am going to give it to them. So, if you'd please just sign on this dotted line, we can both pretend this never happened."

“Well, she sure has your temper,” Ruby laughed. Emma turned around in the chair to face her, giving her a look that could kill.

“Not helping, Rubes.”

“I didn’t come here to be made fun of, okay?” She snarled. The pain, more than the action, made the brunette’s eyes soft. “These are the forms that my social worker gave me, so can you just please...sign them?”

She pleaded, allowing herself to show the desperation she was beginning to feel. Not only was this clearly _not_ her mother, which was a little disappointing, but it was starting to scare her that she might not be granted her emancipation. Too much control over her life was now in the hands of two strangers, and she could only try to make the best of it.

“I know you don’t know me, but the thought of having to spend the next two years living in _more_ crappy group homes or with creepy foster parents... quite frankly, it blows.” Leila took a deep breath, calming the tears that threatened to spill; she wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing her so vulnerable. “This was obviously a mistake, so can’t you just do one thing to help a girl out?”

Emma shot Ruby another dirty look, knowing something rude would probably come out of her mouth next and shook her head. Ruby just threw her hands up in surrender and moved out from behind the bar, pausing at the door to offer an apologetic smile .

“I’m late for work anyway; Granny’s going to _kill_ me.” She sighed as she yanked the door open, leaning half way back into the room. “Good luck, though, whoever’s kid you may or may not be. Come by Granny’s later if you need a bite to eat; whatever you want, it’s on the house.”

As the door swung shut behind her, Leila turned back to the woman beside her with wide eyes. “You’ve got her trained pretty well." Emma laughed with a shake to her head. "What? It’s the truth! She seems like kind of a bitch, though.”

“Nah, her bark is a lot worse than her bite,” Emma replied with a sigh, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hand. “Look, I’ll probably sign whatever form you need me to, but I'm still not sure I get it. Why do you need emancipation? Shouldn’t you get it from your parents; I mean, the people who adopted you?"

“Actually, nobody ever adopted me. That’s the problem. My foster homes were a joke, mostly people looking for an easy payday or a babysitter for their other kids. I was never lucky enough to find one that actually wanted to help kids like me, or one that wanted to adopt. Group homes have been like summer camp for delinquents, only worse. I’m tired of it. All of it. Emancipation is my last hope.”

Emma looked like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and mouth open, not quite sure what she was supposed to say. Clearly, this kid had been through hell and back. She wished there was something she could do — _beyond_ signing the form. Nobody should have to go through what Leila had.

"It’s okay, Emma. Everybody has that look, you don’t have to say anything." With resignation, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath to steel her resolve. She handed her the pen and pushed the form a little closer to Emma, indicating where she needed to sign. “So, if you’ll just sign there, I’ll be out of your hair and you can pretend I was never here.”

Emma stared at the paper a little longer, feeling a pang of disappointment resonating through her chest, not really understanding why it was there, and then quickly scribbled her name above where Leila’s finger rested. Before she had finished taking the pen away, Leila yanked the papers and tucked them back into the folder.

Green eyes widened in surprise as the papers were jerked from under her hand and Emma gave the girl a quick smirk. She leaned back in the chair and looked at Leila, analyzing her features. Hardened but still soft, dark but light, thin but strong, tough but somehow also vulnerable. Everything about her seemed to be opposite of the front that she put on. Clearly this girl was looking for _something_ — or rather, _someone_.

An image of Regina Mills popped into Emma's mind suddenly, and for some reason she compared them mentally until it almost made her uncomfortable. _Where the hell did that come from?_ She hadn’t really thought this intensely about that woman since college. There was just _something_ about this girl, though, that she couldn’t shake.

Leila shifted away from Emma, wrapping her arms around herself. She _hated_ being analyzed. It brought back memories of adults giving her the once over before deciding whether they wanted to foster or adopt her, _like picking out puppies through a window,_ she thought darkly. She squirmed a little under Emma’s stare, then squared her shoulders and hardened her eyes with determination, jutting her chair out from under the table. Being on the receiving end had never felt more rattling, then again, it was never given by someone who was physically _part_ of her.

“Great. Now if you could just point me in the direction of Regina Mills, I’ll be on my way.”

Emma blanched. “Wait, that says _Regina Mills_ is your other mother?” Emma scoffed incredulously. “Like, the mayor of Storybrooke Regina Mills?”

Well, _that_ was weird.

“Uh... I guess so. I don’t know anything about either of you. I mean, either of my parents. Beyond what’s in this folder.”

Emma crinkled her nose and contemplated how that would go. Not well, for sure. She felt like she owed this girl something _,_ for whatever reason, and if that meant being a punching bag for Leila, she decided it was worth not letting the girl down. “Well, it’s surprisingly easy to get lost in Storybrooke, so I’d be happy to take you to her office myself. We should probably try to call and make an appointment with her, though. Regina doesn’t take any meetings unless you call ahead.”

“Well, that’s just great. She sounds like the kind of fun-loving person who’d react well to being ambushed by her long-lost daughter.” She shifted uncomfortably at the thought of being rejected by this woman, _whoever_ she was, her mother or not.

“Yeah, I’d try not to get my hopes up if I were you, kid. Anyway, if they made a mistake with my name, they really must have made a mistake with hers. I mean, I went to highschool with Regina.” She wrinkled her nose at the memories. “I think I would have known if she was pregnant at," she did a little mental math and subtracted the years. "Yikes, sixteen.”

Emma slid her cell phone out of her back pocket, scrolling through her list of contacts until she reached ‘Mayor’s Office.’ “You’re sure you want me to make this call?” She inquired, giving the girl time to reconsider and bail.

“Might as well,” Leila nodded. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been jerked around," she sighed. "But I came all the way here, so I suppose it doesn’t hurt to at least meet with her.”

“You say that _now_ ,” Emma warned darkly, but pressed the button to call anyway, setting it on speakerphone. It rang twice and then was promptly answered by the no-nonsense tone of Regina’s latest assistant.

 

\--------

 

“Mayor’s Office, how may I help you?”

“Uhhh, yeah, this is Emma Swan? I'm calling to...I need to talk with Reg — I mean, the Mayor. Would it be possible to make an appointment for, like, right now?”

"Please hold.” The line clicked immediately to some horrible elevator music, prompting Leila and Emma to simultaneously groan.

“This is why I avoid calling this woman,” Emma muttered, swinging her legs onto the table and crossing them at the ankles at the prospect of the wait. She might as well make herself comfortable. The woman she was calling tended to make her feel the need to act out; she had just never known _why_. “Here, you can hold the phone, kid.”

“Do you know her very well?” Leila inquired curiously.

For all she knew, this Regina Mills could actually be her birth mother, although she was starting to lose hope altogether. It seemed that she had been sent on a wild goose chase. Who knew where her real parents were, and if she’d ever be able to find them?

Before Emma could answer, the clipped voice of Regina Mills’ assistant suddenly returned to the line, and both Leila and Emma jumped at the sound.

“Miss Swan, Mayor Mills sends her regrets, but she is needed elsewhere for more pressing matters than whatever you would like to discuss. She would also like to remind you that issues may be addressed by any Storybrooke citizen at the next town meeting this Sunday afternoon.”

“Okay, but can you tell her that this is actually important? Trust me, she'll want to take this meeting.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Swan. Do have a pleasant day.”

“ _Bitch_ ,” Emma huffed, taking the phone back with a frown. She looked at Leila apologetically then and shrugged. “Sorry, kid. I told you, she doesn’t really take meetings. With anyone.”

“I don’t have time for this bureaucratic crap,” Leila stood quickly, startling Emma by shoving her chair under the table harshly and swinging her backpack onto her shoulder. “I’m getting these damn papers signed so I can get back to Boston and be done with all of this. Just tell me where I need to go and I’ll go there myself.”

She strode with purpose towards the door, casting one last glance behind her at Emma, who had, to her surprise, jumped up after her and was not far behind.

“Hold up, I didn’t say I wouldn’t take you,” Emma smiled and laughed softly, shaking her head as she shrugged a worn red leather jacket onto her shoulders. She swung the door open, gesturing out in front of her for Leila to exit first. “Hold onto that fire, though. You’re going to need it to get us into that office.”

 

\--------

 

As they made their way down Main Street, Emma made sure to point out all the attractions that made Storybrooke, well, Storybrooke. It was the epitome of small town America: a diner, a police station, a library, and... that was about all she saw. The houses were beautiful in their own ways, comfortable but plain, and certainly nothing to write home about; not that Leila _had_ one anyway. Until they passed Mifflin and Leila saw the Mayoral mansion, she was otherwise unimpressed. You’d think with a name like Storybrooke, it would be somewhat - picturesque - but instead, it was just... plain.

Emma insisted that there was more to the town and not to take it at face value, but considering the girl was on the next bus out of here, she didn't much care.

"That’s where Regina lives. Overcompensating a bit, if you ask me, but only the best for Madame Mayor,” Emma scoffed, kicking a rock with her shoe as they passed the house on the way to town square. “I believe in comfort over luxury, you know?”

Leila turned to look at Emma, smirking in her direction. “Do you guys have some sort of history or something? Or do you just have a big chip on your shoulder for no reason?”

“What do you mean, ‘chip’ on my shoulder? Just making a harmless observation. Nobody needs a house _that_ big.” Leila chuckled a little at Emma's air quotes around the word 'chip' but then realized that _any_ home was better than none.

“At least you both have a place to call home and grew up in one you weren't at risk of being kicked out of...”

Emma shrugged and frowned a bit. “In case you didn’t notice, I said _house_ , not home.”

"And you didn't even answer my question. What is it with this Mayor lady that gets you so hot and... opinionated?" Leila asked, wanting not to think about how she couldn’t, apparently, tell the difference between a house and a home.

Thinking hard at her response, Emma sighed loudly, trying to figure out what to say. “We used to be...friends, I guess you could say. And then one day, like a switch had been flipped, she was just... cold. Shut me out cold turkey. Anyway, that was all while we were in college. In Boston, actually."

She turned to Leila, smiled, and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear that had been coaxed across her face by the slight morning breeze. "But whatever, that was like ten years ago. Now I've got the bar, my friends, my family, a whole life. And she's got... whatever it is she's got in that mansion of hers. I’d feel sorry for her if she hadn’t done it to herself. You’ll see, she’s a real peach to be around.”

Leila turned away, speaking more to the sidewalk in front of them than to Emma. "But she could also be my mother, and I'm actually starting to hope that she'll be a mistake, like you were."

Emma was surprised by how much that remark stung. "Hey, she's not _all_ bad. I just think the woman needs to get out more. She holes herself up in her castle like a prisoner and shuts the world out. She has a really beautiful... heart,” Emma’s face drops, blushing. “At least, she used to, once upon a time.”

Leila simply smiled in response as Emma slowed to a stop in front of an intimidating, immaculate white building at the center of town square. Her heart was starting to dance to an erratic rhythm once more at the thought of the mysterious Regina Mills, towering over them in her office, who may or may not be biologically responsible for her life. Either of them could have been her _birth_ mother, but now that she could rule Emma out completely, she felt more lost than when she'd arrived.

Her heart sank. If Emma's name was on her birth certificate by mistake, it was likely that Regina's name was also there incorrectly.

_No. You came here for signatures, and that's what you're going to get. Who cares if she's the real thing? All you need is two names that match the papers and you'll finally be free._

"You ready, kid?" Emma clapped a hand on her shoulder, and for once Leila didn't quite mind the sudden physical contact. "Let's go get you emancipated."

 

\--------

 

She took a deep breath, allowing Emma to hold the door open for her once again, and began walking the hallway to what she hoped would be her new life.

Three grand staircases and two left turns found Leila in the entrance of the Mayoral office suite, Emma hot on her heels. They both made their way into the modern waiting room, adorned with contrasting black and white tones, a statue of a horse in the corner, and a painting of an old southern plantation hanging on the wall above the receptionist's desk. _What a weird place,_ Leila thought. Emma reached out and softly pulled Leila back, stepping in front towards Regina's assistant. "Why don't I try to get in there first?"

Leila nodded and sat, leaning back awkwardly against the curved arm of a blood red chaise lounge. "Okay, sure."

Emma nodded confidently, squared her shoulders, and prepared for a fight. She strained a smile, and faced the meek-looking receptionist. _This will be easy_.

“Um, hello, I think I spoke with you earlier on the phone. My name is Emma Swan and I urgently need to speak with the Mayor. I’m sure she’s very busy, but I think she needs to hear me out and take this meeting.”

“Miss Swan, as I told you before, Ms. Mills has more important matters to attend to at _any_ given moment, so please, kindly see yourself out.”

As Emma laughed and made her way to the door anyway, the receptionist stood and made an — honestly — half-hearted attempt at blocking her from entering Regina’s office. “...it’ll only take a minute and then you can go back to polishing your nails or whatever you were...”

Before she could get another word out, the buzz of the intercom loudly interrupted them.

"Georgia, what in the world is going on out there? If you can't handle these _distractions_ on your own, perhaps we need to rethink this little arrangement."

The suddenly meek woman scurried back behind her desk and pressed the button to respond. "Ms. Mills, I'm so sorry, I tried to dismiss this woman, but she shoved past me and insists on speaking with you. I cannot get her to leave."

"Damn right," Emma muttered under her breath as the receptionist shot her the nastiest look. “Really? I know your boss, so that look doesn’t intimidate me.”

"Georgia," Regina reprimanded. "If I can't trust you to be the go between for this office and handle these situations yourself, perhaps you should just go ahead and take your lunch a little early. We'll discuss this later. Please send Miss Swan in and I'll handle her myself."

The lady slammed the intercom button quiet and angrily made her way to the door of Regina's office, unlocked it, and pushed Emma through, causing Emma to falter and almost trip her way onto the floor. Steadying herself as she internally gave a high five to her resolve, she looked up only to cower under the glare of none other than Regina Mills herself. Now _that_ had to be one of the nastiest looks she had ever received.

 

\--------

 

Leila could hear the commotion from the office as she paced the standing room, unsure whether she should intervene. She liked the way Emma was standing up for her agenda and not taking no for an answer, but she worried that someone might get punched, or worse — have the cops called on them.

As soon as she heard multiple voices again after a few moments of complete silence, she knew there was trouble brewing, and worrying that her potential mother might be on the other side of that door, she rushed to it and leaned in close to try to catch the sound of her voice through the crack, knowing that it could be her only chance if this lady called the cops and got them kicked out. She strained her ears to pick up on the obviously heated discussion between the two women.

"...don't know what could possibly be so important that you felt the irrepressible urge to burst into my office on a Friday morning. In case you've forgotten, you're supposed to make an appointment weeks in advance...”

“...I didn’t need you weeks ago! Jesus, you don’t have to be such a bitch all the time. You’re obviously not busy or you wouldn’t be arguing with me, so if you could just _listen_ to what I have to say I won’t have to take up any more of your precious time.”

"I'm quite sure there's nothing _you_ need that can't be handled by that floozy waitress who lives above that Rat Hole with you."

“The _Rabbit Hole,_ and you don’t get to talk about my personal life, Regina. That ship sank a long, long time ago. Besides, what I do or _don’t_ do anymore with someone who lives with me is my business. You don’t see me walking around judging you on your questionable choice in men who have _equally_ questionable morals, or have you forgotten about who _you_ may or may not be sleeping with?”

"It is absolutely _none_ of your concern who I choose to spend my time with, sleeping or otherwise.”

“You know what, fine. I didn’t come here to be lectured or argued with. I came here because your _daughter_ showed up on my doorstep looking for you, so if you could just...”

“My... daugh... wh-what are you...? I have _no_ idea who you could be —”

At that moment the door into Regina's office swung open, narrowly missing Leila’s face as she stumbled backwards, tripping on the one-armed sofa and landing right on her butt, bright red, and most definitely busted.

Regina stood completely still, completely in shock, her eyes filling with tears as she looked up and down at Leila. The room became a vacuum, time stopped, and it was as if Regina's whole world fell into place in that instant.

Emma stood between the two, eyeing them both back and forth in disbelief of the resemblance. She knew she saw Regina in the girl. It was almost uncanny. But still... _how?_

The three of them were lost in the moment, seemingly unsure of what to say. Regina paused, looking to Emma in disbelief for an explanation.

"This is Leila," Emma announced, smiling brightly at the girl.

Regina barely spoke, she barely did more than mouth it, as if in awe of everything that the name now meant to her. " _Leila._ "

Leila, growing increasingly nervous after a few moments of silence, waved slightly in her direction, breaking the tension with a soft and rather meek, "Hi..."

Emma awkwardly shrugged and continued to break the silence.

"I guess there must have been some mistake, because you and I ended up listed as the parents on her birth certificate, but I don't remember giving up a baby for adoption with you when we were sophomores in high school, so..."

Emma rambled on, filling Regina in on everything that had transpired in the last few hours, slowly realizing her lack of importance as she trailed off.

Regina exhaled sharply and reached up to swiftly wipe a tear from beneath her eye. "I... can’t believe you found me. You're just...you're so... _big_."

Leila couldn’t help the awkward giggle that escaped her as Regina’s eyes widened in surprise of her own outburst and how it might be interpreted.

"Not _big,_ you know, just... _bigger._ Than when I last saw you. You were so tiny and now you're...a whole person...on the floor of my office."

She rushed forward, pushing past Emma and knelt, shakily reaching out to offer both hands to help Leila to her feet. They both stood in front of the other, neither knowing precisely what should happen next. Regina had a desperate need to pull the girl into a hug, but she felt as though it would be unfair to them both.

"Are you alright? Do you need anything?"

Emma looked at Regina in disbelief. She had never seen this woman so flustered before. Her calm, stiff composure thrown out the window and morphed into this mess of a person. She was so... nurturing, or rather, _maternal_. It made Emma’s heart do that ping thing again.

Emma knew her name above "Parent Two" had been a mistake, but clearly Regina _had_ given up a child — _this_ child — sometime when they were practically kids themselves. How had she missed that?

"Yeah, I'm...fine. I'm good. I just came here because...you actually never signed this."

She grabbed her backpack and ruffled through her paperwork and presented it to Regina, who stood, once again, stoic and composed, throwing Leila completely off balance. She’d never met someone who could turn on and off like Regina just had. It unnerved her. Who was this woman? How could she possibly be her mother? _Could_ she be her mother?

“I’d be happy to look over your paperwork in my office, if you’d just follow me." She gave Emma a dismissive hand gesture as she walked past her. "Miss Swan, your services are no longer needed and I’m sure you remember your way out.” As Leila followed Regina into her office she mouthed an apology and as Emma tried to protest, Leila spoke up for her instead.

“Actually, I’d like Emma to come too, if that’s okay. Might need a witness...or something.”

Regina turned to look at her with cool, dark eyes, a stark difference to the glassy ones from just moments before. “If you insist.”

As she pulled out the chair behind her desk, she sat, smoothed out her dress, and gestured for the two of them to sit in front of her.

“I’ll just make a quick call and free up the rest of my day. Excuse me.”

“If only someone had called earlier this morning to do just that...” Emma mumbled as Leila elbowed her in the arm to shut her up before she got them _both_ in trouble.

Regina glared at Emma murderously as she dialed. "I don't recall asking for advice on how to manage my time from a _bartender_."

“Small business-owner, but whatever makes you feel better about yourself.” Emma huffed and rolled her eyes. The Mayor efficiently ignored her, more concerned about clearing her agenda.

Leila gritted her teeth and leaned over, whispering to Emma. "Would you _please_ shut up? This is about _me_ , remember?”

Done with her call, Regina thumbed through the paperwork Leila had given her, eyes darting across the pages rapidly. "Now what exactly did you say you needed me to sign? I was promised by the lawyers that everything would be handled impeccably."

Leila leaned forward slightly, gently moving one form to the top of the stack in Regina's hand. "It's this one that I really need. You, um... you never actually signed a permanent release of rights, which as it turns out, is pretty important if I want to become emancipated. Which I do. As soon as I turn sixteen."

"Which is..." Regina murmured, her eyes drifting closed as she did the mental math. "Four days from now."

"Right," Leila agreed, slightly taken aback that the first person to remember her birthday in her entire life, was the woman who gave her away. How ironic. "...So, if you could please just sign this, I'll go back to Boston and I won't bother you again."

"Wait, emancipation? From whom? Your parents?" Regina's brow wrinkled in concern. "Why would you want to do that?"

"Don't have parents," she responded curtly, a little more harshly than she intended, "I was never adopted."

Regina gasped softly and her face fell; Leila gauged her reaction carefully, but it was clear that she had no idea what had transpired throughout Leila’s life. “I... wasn’t aware. I was repeatedly assured that you would be adopted as soon as you left the hospital. That there was already a family wanting to take you home. I never... I never even thought I’d need to check and make sure you were okay because it seemed like the perfect situation for you, much better than I could provide at sixteen, certainly. I... didn’t know.” Regina shot Emma a dirty look as if she had done something to mess this girl’s life up right along with her.

Emma sat up straight and leaned forward. “I have a question...”

Regina cleared her throat, her voice a little shaky as she tried to curb the emotions threatening to spill over. “Of course you do, Miss Swan. Because what would a family reunion like this be without you asking more questions?”

“Look, you can cut the Mayor _Hard-Sass_ routine out. You still haven’t explained why I’m on her birth certificate and not her actual biological father. I think we both would like to know what _that’s_ all about...”

Leila shyly shrunk down in her chair before adding, “Yeah, I would kinda like to know, for the paperwork and stuff. I don’t mean to be a bother, but it’s not like I’ve ever asked anything else of you my whole life...”

“Leila, dear,” Regina softened, and Leila leaned closer; she had the irritating urge to be nearer to her, despite how rapidly Regina seemed to shift her mood. She had never been around someone whom she couldn’t read like a book, and this woman — her _mother_ , she kept reminding herself, was throwing her for a loop. “You could never be a bother to me. I’d be happy to answer any questions you have for me, but, unfortunately, on this subject, I seem to be at a loss. I don’t _remember_ who your father is, and I... I actually wasn’t the one who filled out your birth certificate. All of those details were arranged by a... close friend of the family.”

Emma snorted. “Regina, I remember you in highschool, no way in hell did you sleep with someone and _not_ remember their name. You’d have been lucky to find a date to winter formal, you weren’t exactly the most popular girl in school...” Emma trailed off, laughing to herself.

"And you couldn't possibly have had anything to do with my social standing, could you?"

"You know what?" Leila interjected, "I actually don't care if the two of _you_ slept together and _magically_ conceived me. If my social worker's papers say my parents are Regina Mills and Emma Swan, and I have both of your signatures, then I'm as far as I'm concerned, I have what I came for."

Both Regina and Emma stopped speaking and looked a bit guiltily at Leila. "I apologize, dear. We shouldn't be bickering in front of you. I'd be happy to sign your form, under one condition."

Of course. Needing something from adults _always_ came with conditions. _Here we go again_.

"I can't make any promises. And I don't think it's fair that _you_ are withholding something that will actually do me some good, which is _not_ what happened at all when you let me go..."

Regina inhaled deeply and frowned, feeling a migraine tickle behind her left eye. "Take my phone number, and if you ever need _anything_ , don't hesitate to call. Money, shelter, advice, it'll come with no questions asked. I may not have been _able_ to be there for you when I was sixteen, but I can at least offer you _something_ now. Please...” She reached towards Leila’s hand as though to cover it with her own, but when the young girl drew back as though she was about to be burned, Regina’s breath hitched and she returned it to her lap softly. “Just...consider it."

She eloquently penned her name, address, number of her personal driver, office number with her direct extension, and cell phone number on a piece of letterhead paper and handed it to Leila from across the desk.

"I really don't need your help, Ms. Mills. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression I was looking for charity from you, but a signature will do, I promise."

Regina nodded quickly, drawing Leila’s paperwork closer to her and signing her name next to Emma’s.

"I know I'm not what you'd hoped for in a mother, Leila." She side glanced at Emma, daring her to open her mouth again. "I haven’t always been this... cold. There's a lot you could never understand about me, that _nobody_ could,” she looked at Emma solemnly and then quickly at her folded hands. "But when I saw you, you reminded me so much of myself. I may not have been there to teach you things about life, but don't let the world harden you like it did to me."

“No offense,” Leila replied, pushing away from the ornate desk and standing up to leave. She needed to get the hell out of there. “But, I haven’t had a mom in sixteen years. I don’t need one now.”

Emma turned around to look at Leila's retreating form. "Hey, that's not fair. It's obvious she didn't know she was putting you into a bad situation. And Regina never does anything without precise calculations, so she was taken advantage of, too. She was a kid, don't be so mean..."

"No, she's right Emma. This _is_ my fault. Whether I knew or not I'm still the one who gave her away. She has every right to be angry with me. But Leila, please, at least let me take you to lunch before you leave.” There was something in those brown eyes that made Leila hesitate. “And I'd be happy to pay the court costs for your hearing since my inept lawyer didn't do his job correctly in the first place. Just... don't go."

"We can both chip in for that. It's my name on that form too. I don't mind, really." Emma added earnestly, getting up out of her chair and standing next to Regina.

Leila stopped and looked at the two women, Emma fidgeting and all but marching in place and Regina, her _mother_ , beautiful and strong, but silently pleading with Leila to just stay a little while longer with her. That's all she'd ever wanted her entire life, for her mother to _want_ to be with her. And somehow, miraculously, even if it wasn’t entirely true, she had ended up with two of them.

Maybe just a little time wouldn't hurt. After all, her bus home wasn't for a few more hours.

 

\--------

 

When Leila had stepped onto the bus that would take her to Storybrooke that morning, she definitely had not been planning to be seated for lunch in a diner across from the two people she had spent years dreaming about, but who she also hated more than probably anyone else in the world.

It had started out well enough. Regina had tried, she could tell, to get to know her without stepping too far over the rather glaringly obvious line Leila had drawn between them. She'd asked the usual questions, how school was, what her favorite books were, favorite foods, if she planned to go to college. Thoughtful questions, of course, but Leila could tell she was uncomfortable not knowing the answers in the first place.

She controlled most of the conversation, naturally it seemed, as Emma was more excited to receive a free Granny’s specialty cheeseburger than to interject or get in the way of Regina's 'getting to know you' attempts. Ruby had promised to get whatever Leila wanted, after all, and Emma was all about free food.

Regina seemed to be torn, as she was trying to divide her attention equally among memorizing Leila’s face, actively ignoring Emma seated to her left, and shooting angry glares at Ruby as she strutted through the dining area, refilling oversized coffee mugs and taking endless orders for the lunch rush.

And Emma? Emma was still trying to figure out exactly how the hell she’d gotten wrapped up in this situation with this girl who wasn’t even _her_ daughter, but to whom she felt inexplicably attached already.

Leila looked between the two women, the air around them growing palpably thick with discomfort. Emma was holding her hot chocolate in one hand and drawing a soggy french fry through the remaining ketchup on her plate with the other, flinching every time her arm drifted too near to Regina. Regina was merely _playing_ with the overdressed kale of her salad. Leila couldn’t stand it any longer.

"I hate to be the bearer of obvious news," Leila announced, "But this is the most awkward luncheon... thing...I've ever experienced. What happened to make you two hate each other _so_ much? You can't even look at each other without glaring."

Emma and Regina looked anywhere but at each other. Emma cleared her throat as Regina looked to her dress and smoothed the napkin down on her lap. "I don't know what you're talking about, dear. We just live in very different worlds. I'm sure you can understand that."

“Oh, sure, I get that,” Leila mused, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning forward onto the table. “I just don’t get why you’re putting yourselves in this situation in the first place. Emma, I mean, it’s been fun and all, but you’re...you know, _not_ my mom, so you don’t have to be here.”

“And Regina... you don’t actually have to be here either. You made it pretty clear sixteen years ago that you didn't want to be, so there's no need for it now. Not that I don’t appreciate whatever this is."

Emma looked up as Regina flinched, almost personally offended at the comment, instinctively reaching to place her hand on Regina's in comfort. Regina looked at her out of the corner of her eye, and Emma almost missed the flash of gratitude across her face.

Emma cleared her throat again, awkwardly, "Hey, come on, kid. I get that you've been on your own all of your life, but Regina understands that without the constant jabs. She's obviously trying and obviously sorry."

Regina seemed to notice suddenly that Emma was still touching her hand, and it became too much for her to feel at once. "Miss Swan, could you please stop speaking for me and reprimanding Leila as if you were her mother? I may have given that right away, but you never had it in the first place."

“Will you both just _stop?_ ” Leila demanded. She could only do so much to push them away. They had already wanted more from her than she’d been prepared to give. “ _Neither_ of you are my mother. In four days I’ll be seen by the state as an adult and no one will be able to tell me what to do or how to feel. Listen, I appreciate the company for the meal, but this isn’t really what I came here for.”

She slid out of the booth and looked down at the two of them. “It was nice to meet you, and thanks for signing those forms for me, but it’s definitely time for me to go.”

As the girl walked away, Regina began to stand to go after her, but Emma swiftly grabbed her arm to stall her movements. "Let her go, Regina. I know you mean well, but you'll never get her back by forcing her hand."

Regina turned and looked at Emma with hard eyes, finally sliding back down into the booth beside her. "I suppose...I suppose you're right."

Leila stopped just outside the entrance to the diner, peering back in at them through the large window. She sighed as she saw Regina's petite frame slumped back down into the booth and, surprisingly, allowed Emma to wrap an arm around her shoulders. She was more beautiful than she had ever expected her to be, and a small part of her wondered how it would feel if she ran back into the diner and threw her arms around Regina to hug her. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest.

_That would be crazy._

_Don’t do that, you idiot._

_If she wanted to hug you, she had many opportunities since you showed up here._

_You aren't supposed to want anything from her._

_You don't need anything from her._

How could she simultaneously feel so much and so little for someone she had only known for mere hours? She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her worn jacket and felt the expensive paper Regina had given her full of her personal information, folded primly and tucked away. Leila knew that should she ever want to call, Regina would pick up immediately, but she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of depending on _anyone_ to be there for her, much less the woman who had abandoned her in the first place.

She had her signatures, though, and that was the furthest she wanted to be involved with her “parents.” They clearly had more issues to work out amongst themselves than she cared to be involved in, and as the bus rolled up and she boarded, she knew that for once in her life, things were going to work out in her favor.

 

\--------

 

Later that evening, long after Leila had left her once and for all, Regina climbed into her warm, soft bed, hoping to forget the entire day. If she allowed herself more time to contemplate what had just transpired, she'd lose her mind. Her daughter, practically grown, had been in Storybrooke, attitude and all, and now she was just... _gone_. Just like that. The pain of losing her all over again had manifested enough over the course of the day that she was ready for the relief of sleep. She had spent the last fifteen years beating herself up over the baby she'd given up. She had wondered what she would look like. Did she inherit Regina’s thick, dark hair? Her pronounced cheekbones? Her strong jaw? The list was endless.

Regina allowed an image of Leila to swim to the forefront of her mind as she pulled the comforter up to her chin and closed her eyes. She had not, in fact, inherited much of anything from Regina except her facial features. A full head of curly, blonde hair, a light splash of freckles across her nose, and impossibly long limbs that made her, at practically sixteen, almost taller than Regina, yet still so small, still so much her _baby_.

Their eyes, though, were identical. Soulful brown eyes the color of raw umber. Emotions spread through them like wildfire, revealing the pain and loneliness she tried so desperately to hide, just as Regina's did. If there was anything she was glad she gave her, Regina was pleased it was that. For as hardened on the inside as they may seem, their eyes were always the windows to their souls. And Leila's, just like Regina's, begged for hope. And Regina knew that she was the hope Leila so desperately needed. _But Emma is right, I cannot force her._ That would be the worst thing to do.

However, seeing Leila for the first time as someone who simultaneously didn't need her at all, and yet obviously still did, made the whole thing so _real._ She decided that she couldn't just let this be. She had to get her back, even if it was as an emancipated adult. She was the goddamned mayor, after all. She had things to offer. A job. A place to live. A chance to know Regina and even, she secretly hoped, a chance to love her as much as Regina loved that frightened, headstrong young girl already. As her head nestled into her pillow and she drifted off to sleep, she'd made up her mind. She was going to get her daughter back, no matter what it took.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It had been three long, miserable days since Leila had arrived in Storybrooke and shaken up Regina's entire world. She found herself lost in never ending daydreams about the girl, as a child, as an infant; _if only I'd kept her_ . The grief over losing her a second time refused to subside. _This is so much worse than when I was sixteen_ , she thought. _How could I have let her go again?_ She'd chastised herself repeatedly every moment since she had chosen not to go after her.

As the car rolled past milestones and landmarks littering the stretch of open interstate, Regina worried. She knew she was about to trespass over some sort of boundary. She had no right to do this, after all. Her only remaining option was to hope that Leila would somehow, miraculously use any of the means of contact Regina had given her when they met.

But, as she had expected in spite of that hope, Leila never did call. She slept with her phone next to her pillow, and jumped every time she received even the most insignificant text message. It was pathetic, really. She planned out a speech just in case the girl happened to call. Apologizing for not coming after her, proposing a visit for her birthday, and maybe even an appearance at her hearing. Just for support. Nothing suffocating, nothing demanding, just so the girl didn't have to do such an _adult_ thing...

Without her mother.

She'd debated endlessly over what her showing up in Boston would mean. _She_ knew it was because of her maternal instincts. Because she wanted to protect her little girl in any way she could. And the thing she knew best, the thing she'd perfected in Leila's absence _was_ the law. That's why she was making the trip. She could offer legal advice. She could make sure the girl was protected by the law.

She had to remain firm. She was a background legal counsel. Nothing else. So she could stop noticing that Leila wasn't sitting at her kitchen table, or sprawled across her couch watching TV, or reading a book in her study across from her. She pored through books on family law, brushing up for hours to make sure it was all fresh, but she'd find herself lost in thought, looking over her glasses towards the red couch in front of her, imagining sharing the space with the girl. And instead of being comforted by the picturesque daydream, she was simply left even more alone. Alone with feelings she thought she'd buried deep over a decade ago. Alone in her big, painfully quiet home. Just like the inside of her heart; maddeningly, horribly alone.

After a few days of a personal pity party, she decided that she was no longer the pathetic girl who wrote letters to her lost child, she was the mayor. She was Regina. She was strong and brave and fierce, and she was sick of feeling so inadequate. So, she decided to take fate into her own hands and make the four hour drive to Boston. She'd show up at the hearing, sit all the way in the back, take notes and make sure Leila's (she assumed) court appointed lawyer was doing their job, and make sure this girl was taken care of for, likely, the first time in her life. She tried to soothe herself with the same motivational speech she'd been giving herself for the last sixteen years. _I was too young. Too inexperienced. What if my mother had ruined her? What if she'd disposed of her the way she did everyone else who stood in her way? What if she'd taken her away from me anyway?_

No, there were too many horrible things that could have happened. Leila may have been alone, and she may not have had parents, but at least she was alive. Something she could never have guaranteed if Cora had discovered anything about her existence.

They could very well be empty platitudes, she knew, meant only to make herself feel marginally better about the whole thing. But the truth was that even if her daughter managed to one day forgive her, there was no way she would ever be able to forgive herself.

As the sign for her exit came into view, she took a deep, steadying breath. Her hands were shaking and sweaty, and she was nearly in tears; she needed to pull it together. She'd be of no use to Leila like this. She glanced over to the passenger seat at the neatly wrapped present resting there. She'd debated heavily about buying her something, worried Leila would see it as a bribe or as something purchased out of guilt; perhaps just a way for Regina to throw her money at her.

It wasn't, though. It was a wrapped picture frame of the only photo that existed of the two of them together. Regina, around seven months pregnant, lying under her favorite apple tree on a blanket, one hand holding a worn copy of _Self-Reliance_ , the other draped lovingly across her growing belly. It was her most prized possession. One she'd kept hidden for decades, too afraid of anyone finding it to even chance a look at it herself.

Under the frame was the book itself. Lovingly worn, with pages bent to her favorite passages, the words that allowed her to escape her awful young adult life underlined, a leather bookmark made from the reins of her beloved childhood horse lying in wait between the pages, anxiously keeping her place until her next visit.

It was all for Leila now. Maybe it could help get her through life on her own, like it had for Regina. Maybe it would show her that even though she didn't — couldn't — keep her, a little part of Regina never did, never could, leave her. She didn't know if she would give it to her, or how Leila would take the gift.

Regina knew that after so many years of being bounced around foster care, Leila had every right to have her sights set on emancipation. She felt ready to handle the world on her own. But to Regina, Leila had never stopped being that tiny, sweet newborn they had whisked away from her, to be loved and cared for by a family much more ready to do so than she was. She existed in the furthest corners of Regina’s mind, soft and warm, a stark contrast to the life Regina was living without her. It was jarring, now, to see her child — her baby — almost a fully grown adult but looking still so much like a child.

She never expected to feel so drawn to her. Especially because she could tell Leila was angry and hurt. And so desperate to hide any of those feelings that were written all over her face. Regina thought giving her up would replace her maternal instincts with loss and she would never have to feel them again.

But she was wrong. The moment she looked into those amber eyes she knew — it was forever. She'd love her forever in a way she'd never allowed herself to love before. She only wished she might be given the chance to redeem herself. To prove to Leila that she was loved. That Regina loved her so fiercely from the moment she realized she was pregnant, and never stopped.

By the time Regina arrived at her destination, she was startled out of her introspective by the swarm of city movement around her. She'd become so comfortable living in Storybrooke again that she had almost forgotten that this place had been her home for many years. With conviction, she took a deep breath, exited the car, and marched in the direction of the courthouse.

 

\--------

 

She was already going to be in Boston. It'd be so easy just to pop by and check in on the kid, congratulate her, maybe pal around the city and get a bite to eat, nothing serious — nothing permanent. She wasn't sure why she was going. It wasn’t like Leila was her kid. The birth certificate had been a mistake, so why did she feel so drawn to her?

Maybe it was in her eyes. The pain and loneliness she saw there — so much like Regina’s — that made her heart ache. She was sure the kid could at least use a friend — a much older friend — but still a friend. They got along well enough. They laughed together and cracked jokes, and besides that awkward lunch, the time she'd spent with Leila had been rather pleasant.

And so she found herself off to Boston on Monday morning, her recently purchased Jeep speeding along, loud music blasting out of the opened windows, the warm breeze blowing in the salty smell of the ocean all around her. It was a beautiful day and everything about it lifted Emma's spirits and made her anxiously excited to see the young girl again. And the best part of it all was the fact that she wasn’t just making the trip to see Leila, she would also get to visit with her son, Henry.

He was ten years old with wild, messy hair that she constantly reminded him to comb (which he never did,) a giant, goofy grin, and a passion for fantasy and imagination that she never could find as a child. He was the absolute light of her life, and she missed him more and more with every day that passed.

It wasn't that she was unhappy with the custody agreement she had with Henry’s father. It could be a lot worse, and for that she was grateful. Summers were certainly the hardest part. Graham got him for a full month and a half and that time away from Henry put her on edge.

So many things could go wrong. But Henry always came back happy and thrilled and full of so many boy feelings she would never understand. And ever since she moved to Storybrooke, he saw a lot less of his dad. It was good for him, the extended amount of time, but she did miss him.

Graham liked to pretend that he wasn’t fond of her surprise visits to the city during his time with Henry, but Emma knew he appreciated the break, if only for a few hours. After all, for most of the year (with the exception of some weekends and holidays,) Graham was a bachelor. He wasn’t used to being a full-time parent.

As Emma pulled up to the courthouse, she checked her makeup in the rearview mirror, straightened her shoulders, gave herself internal approval, and was on her way. She'd called in a few favors from her bail-bondswoman days after college and found out where the hearing would be held, and she hoped she could sit way in the back so as not to be seen. Just to be supportive.

 

\--------

 

Regina sat perfectly still, hoping not to be seen. She'd, thankfully, arrived just as the proceedings began and narrowly avoided running into Leila before her case was to be seen. She didn't need the stress or distraction of having her mother show up just as she was trying to be seen as an adult.

She knew the hearing wasn't going to go well, the girl really had no case. After all, there had been no witness to their signatures of the waiver and no notary, but at the time she had just wanted Leila to feel as though she'd accomplished something. Being there meant she wanted to give her that boost of handling the situation on her own. Just meeting her was worth having to let her go, again. Her law background proved detrimental to the notion, though, because she really did want to see the girl succeed. Regina simply had too much legal knowledge to believe she would.

But she also secretly wanted to be there when she failed, to comfort her in a way only a mother could. She knew it was selfish, but she unapologetically craved it. Hoped that Leila would come running into her arms and Regina could kiss away her tears and offer her a better life than she could ever have dreamed.

She had been trying to force images of that scenario out of her mind all weekend, but she couldn’t help herself. It would only stand to hurt her in the long run. Leila had said it herself; she hadn’t had a mother in sixteen years, and she didn’t need one (let alone two) now. Unbeknownst to Leila, Regina had been a mother the whole time; she just didn’t have her child.

“I see you turn sixteen today.”

The judge spoke with calm clarity, and Regina strained to pay attention to Leila’s answer while her heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest.

“Yes, I’m finally old enough to become emancipated. I can get my GED and a job.”

“And this is your caseworker here?”

A spritely woman gracefully stood in acknowledgement, nodding and then gesturing towards where Leila sat alone. “I am, Your Honor. I’ve only been with Leila a few months. She tends to...change hands often.”

The judge frowned, flipping casually through the file before him. “Well, I see that. Seven different foster homes.”

Leila smiled hesitantly. This was already going nowhere good. “Well, that’s — that’s not really my fault.”

“And whose is it? Surely you’re not saying it was the seven different families who tried to take you in.”

Leila huffed indignantly, but attempted to remain calm. “No. I mean, I wanted a good home, the state of Massachusetts just hasn’t provided me with one.”

“So, you have no permanent place of residence as of today.”

“Well, as soon as my petition is granted, there’s a studio apartment not far from my school.”

He scoffed. “You’re going to afford an apartment? On what income?”

“I have $3,000 saved up.”

“Well, who’s going to co-sign your rental agreement?”

Leila faltered, confused. “The whole point of getting emancipated is that I won’t need anything cosigned.”

The judge shook his head, not even looking up to respond to her. “No landlord is going to rent to a minor —”

Regina and Emma jumped up simultaneously with an eager offer to help, each of their voices blending with the other.

“I’ll co-sign, your Honor!”

“I can do it!”

Emma grumbled, shoving Regina lightly on her shoulder from behind. Regina hadn’t even realized Emma was there; she must have arrived even later than she had.

She whipped around to face her and whispered viciously, "I'm _actually her_ mother, you fool."

The judge frowned, his eyes darting between Leila and the two women at the back of the courtroom. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Leila’s mouth formed around the words carefully, as though practicing them before actually speaking. “Uh, they’re, um...my birth…they’re on my birth certificate.”

Emma grinned and rocked back and forth from heel to toe, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her dark slacks. “Yeah, Leila and I...we go way back, Your Honor.”

Regina rolled her eyes and tossed her hair behind one shoulder as she turned around to respond under her breath to Emma alone. “To when, Friday?”

The judge turned his attention to Leila’s caseworker, gesturing towards the other folder she held. “Let me see that file, please.”

As he thumbed through the pages of new information, Emma leaned forward, her chin nearly resting on Regina’s right shoulder, but not quite. “Hey, we bonded."

Regina smirked, never turning around, and hating the way Emma’s presence so near to her quickened the pace of her heart. “Oh, you _bonded_. Over what? An affinity for greasy diner food? You want a bond, try being attached by an umbilical cord.”

Before Emma could give her snarky response, the judge called out to her. “Ms. Swan. You own your own business, is that correct?”

She nodded, not entirely sure why he cared what she did for a living. “Yes, your Honor.”

“And you’re the Mayor of Storybrooke, Maine? With a degrees from Harvard and Yale Law?”

Regina simply nodded, glancing at Leila, who was looking between the both of them in complete disbelief. She tried to slow down the racing of her heart, increasing in pace with each passing moment.

“No criminal records, each in possession of a working vehicle...”

Leila placed her palms down and leaned heavily on the table in front of her, “I’m sorry, wh — what's going on?”

He fixed her with a hard gaze, folded his hands, and sighed. “Listen, Leila. I’m going to be blunt with you. I won't be granting you emancipation. You have no income, you have no permanent residence, you don't even have a court appointed lawyer present. Your grades are less than stellar. Your foster mother says you told her to, and I quote, 'shove it', and you haven't even been seen for at least a week. You're sixteen years old, and I just don't think you're ready to be on your own.”

Regina opened her mouth, already scowling and ready to protest — _I could have represented her if it was going to be a problem_ — but quickly closed it when the judge looked directly at her and addressed them both.

“Emancipation is for children who have no other option. You clearly have two very real options standing in this courtroom today. Now. Regina Mills and Emma Swan are still — legally — your parents.”

“Uh, actually, they’re — they’re not. I had that paper signed, sir.”

“Unfortunately, those signatures were neither witnessed nor notarized, young lady, I'm sorry. Unless anyone has any objections, I’m releasing you back into their temporary joint custody."

Both Regina and Emma stared wide eyed and in disbelief, but silently shook their heads indicating they had none, unsure what else they were supposed to do.

He nodded firmly, clearing his throat, and addressed them and the social worker again. "Please note that there will be a required, scheduled visit in three months’ time where this situation will be reassessed if necessary. Proof of continued residence, proper school enrollment, and the minor staying in good standing with the law will all need to be met. This case is dismissed."

Emma sighed heavily, awkwardly running her fingers through her hair as Leila huffed and rushed over to them, obviously bubbling over with questions and accusations.

Regina's knees buckled as she reached out, leaning heavily against the bench in front of her as her entire life changed within one fleeting moment. Not wanting to add to the scene that was already elevating with Emma's shock and disbelief  and Leila's budding anger, she took a deep breath and calmly gathered her things, her throat closing tightly and her mind reeling; _I can't believe that just happened_.

She ushered the two of them outside the courthouse, the doors bursting open into the harsh morning sun.

Leila stomped her way down the steps leading out of the building, not particularly caring if the other two followed her. “Well. That was the opposite of getting emancipated.”

“This is all your fault, you know.” Emma accused, glaring at Regina as they fell into step next to each other.

“How is this my fault, Miss Swan? I merely came to make sure she was taken care of from a legal standpoint. I just... wasn't expecting this outcome.”

Leila stopped, an indignant look passed through her eyes as the words tumbled out of her mouth. "I didn't want either of you here! All I wanted was your signatures." She threw her hands up in frustration and fixed Regina with a hard, angry stare. "This ruins everything! I can't move to Storybrooke. I have friends here, my life is _here!_ This is _bullshit._ "

Emma and Regina looked at one another as a silent consensus arrived between them that the situation wasn't going to improve and neither was her behavior. But the front steps of the courthouse was definitively not the place to have this conversation.

"We just... need to figure out what we're going to do."

For once, Emma was right.

Leila rolled her eyes and was startled by the quick appearance of Fawn behind her.

“Hello, again Leila. I know this all must be very confusing. Let’s try to come to some sort of decision together, okay? I've just finished speaking to the judge and have all your paperwork for your new school and instructions here for you.”

With Leila's scowl and unwillingness to take the proffered folder, she shrugged, slipping it back into her briefcase. Instead turning to Regina and extending her hand for a handshake. “I’m Fawn Michel, by the way, I’ve been working with Leila for a few months now.”

Regina nodded, earnestly returning the handshake. “Regina Mills. Thank you for your assistance. I just want to make sure that this is what’s best for her. I wasn't expecting this kind of ruling from the judge.”

Fawn smiled warmly, agreeing as she placed a hand on Leila’s elbow and looked between the two, clearly uncomfortable and confused women. “Yes, I’m sure it will be. Now, I don’t quite know the circumstances surrounding why the two of you placed her up for adoption at birth, but...”

Regina and Emma glanced at one another briefly, both shaking their heads immediately. “No, no, _we_ didn’t...”

“Actually, I sort of wanted to ask about that,” Emma interrupted, turning to face Regina, looking down and shuffling her right foot back and forth across the pavement. “Not that I don’t think she’s a great kid, because I do, but... I mean, we were in high school when she was born. I definitely didn’t have anything to do with... all of that.”

Regina sighed impatiently, pointedly ignoring Emma and turning to speak only to Fawn. “I’m afraid there must have been some sort of mistake when Leila was born. Her birth certificate and adoption paperwork were all supposed to be handled by an associate of my family's, and unless I’m mistaken, the only way Emma could have been listed as her other parent is if she and I had been married, which we most certainly never have been.”

“As far as the state is concerned, and frankly, as far as I’m concerned, it is always in the best interest of the child to place her in the custody of two responsible foster parents. But because you are still on file as her birth parents, you will be sharing temporary joint custody, as the judge ruled. He has a very good track record of bringing families together, albeit uniquely, and I think you should trust him."

She lifted the file from her briefcase, and handed it over to Regina, who accepted it readily, already skimming through the pages within. “You can both expect a home visit within the next couple of weeks, and a final assessment in two months as the judge stated. Now that you have physical custody you'll need to make arrangements for a school in Storybrooke once summer break is over. I already pulled her transcripts and file for wherever you enroll her. It’s standard, so you have no need to worry, but as far as I can tell, this is the best possible outcome for Leila.”

She extended her business card to Regina first, and then one to Emma, both of whom accepted, somewhat still in shock. “This is my information. Please don’t hesitate to call me should you have any questions or concerns or if you need help with any other adjustments. And Leila, if you need anything, let me know; you already have my personal phone number if you need it.”

And just like that, she was gone, leaving the disjointed, brand-new family in her wake.

Leila rounded on them suddenly, breaking their uncomfortable silence, “This isn’t fair! I do _not_ want to move to that ridiculous town. Why doesn’t anyone ever care what _I_ want?”

Regina sighed. “Leila, I’m afraid you will have to move to Maine in order to be with us. Whatever your feelings about that may be, once you’ve been placed into our joint custody, you can’t just stay in Boston. It’s a court order.”

As Leila scowled, Regina nodded, took a deep breath and mulled what to do over in her head. "I think you should live with me, as the judge said. I have plenty of rooms," she stopped Emma's protest with a wave of her hand. "And I don't have any roommates. I think it'll be an easier transition."

"Well, what about what I want?" Leila protested again. “I grew up here. How can you expect me to just to pick up and move four hours away?"

"Unfortunately, it doesn't look like any of us have a choice." Emma stated bluntly.

Regina shot her a dirty look. "I, on the other hand, am choosing to look at the bright side in all of this. At least we'll be able to get to know one another. I'd like to get to know you, Leila." Before the girl could insert another potential jab, she continued. "Regardless of the circumstances that brought us here."

“You know, I’ve spent my entire life with people who didn’t give a crap about me or what I wanted.” Leila fumed, backing away from Regina and Emma slowly, “So I guess I assumed that if I ever did find a real mom? She actually would.”

She quickly turned and sprinted off and Leila was gone before Regina could even register the harsh words.

 

\--------

 

After calling her phone several times and knocking on the door of her hotel room in as many irritating patterns as she could, Emma was at a loss as to where she might find Regina. As the elevator descended through the building, she thought out Regina's location logically. She couldn't imagine she would have gone very far; this was where Fawn had told Leila they would be for the night, and Regina would stay exactly where she was just in case the girl tried to find her.

The hotel lounge had a decent crowd for a Monday night, presumably there to listen to the jazz pianist playing softly in the corner. Emma was relieved to see Regina sitting in the centermost seat at the bar and strode forward, intending to take the seat next to her. The least she could do was buy the woman a drink after the day they'd had. However, someone smoothly slid onto the barstool before she could, mere steps away from the bar.

She faltered, observing the two of them as he leaned into Regina and smiled, murmuring something she couldn't quite hear. Noticing an empty table just near enough to be within hearing distance, she swiftly took a seat and settled in to continue observing them unobstructed. This guy had sleaze written all over him, with his tight, half unbuttoned dress shirt, the shiny loafers, the gold of his large wristwatch glinting as he waved down the bartender.

Emma hated pretty people who looked so... put together. People like Regina. But Regina had an edge. She looked fantastic every time Emma saw her; even now, in the dress she’d worn to Leila’s hearing, she was stunning. It was a deep, dark red and clung to her in exactly the right places while still maintaining that certain, classy _something_ that screamed she was absolutely the most desirable woman in the room. She wasn't just posh, she was _damaged_ posh, which made her tolerable. Likeable, even.

 _Fuckable,_ perhaps.

She shook her head from side to side in disbelief of herself. _Where had that come from?_

Emma's brows quirked in surprise as Regina paused, stiffening slightly, and then suddenly her face changed; she chuckled and leaned into this guy, her palm pressing into his chest, and Emma swore Regina's eyes cut a little to the side and burned directly into her own for the briefest moment before sliding back over to his smarmy face, appearing to listen intently to whatever charm he was attempting.

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, and leaned against the back of her chair briefly. Regina was better than this blonde, slick haired, half-dimpled weasel.

A knowing smirk twisted on Regina's face as her eyes drifted casually back to Emma, one brow quirked in what Emma could only interpret as a challenge. Was she...daring her to intervene?

Well, Emma was nothing if not chivalrous, and she knew when her assistance was needed. She leaned in a little closer, trying to hear what the _gentleman_ was murmuring into Regina's ear. She thought she caught the tail end of "continue this up in my room" and decided she'd had enough. She rose quickly from the table just behind and to the right of the would-be suitor, quietly pushing in the chair and rounding on Regina. Walking past them both and dragging her fingertips along Regina's neck, as she leaned in _very_ close.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to find you, I got lost dropping the luggage off into _our_ room." Regina turned to acknowledge her, the look on her face somehow smug and puzzled simultaneously. Emma leaned in and left a lingering kiss on Regina's cheek followed by a dazzling smile. "Hey, beautiful."

Emma side-glanced at the bewildered look on the dude's face and almost felt sorry for him. He cleared his throat, glancing at Regina as though waiting for an explanation while speaking around her to Emma. "Um, excuse me,” He gestured vaguely between himself and his would-be date, “We were just about to leave."

Emma smirked. "Oh, no, excuse _me_ , I clearly showed up late to this party. Who might _you_ be?"

Regina glanced from Emma to the gentleman to her right, almost egging them both on, waiting for what would likely become a pissing contest very soon. If there was one thing Regina didn't mind, it was two people fighting over her. A little boost to the ego never hurt anyone.

Regina looked over her shoulder towards the bar; the last few sips of the appletini in front of her showed how much liquid courage she'd consumed, and she began the mental calculations. She’d had just enough to disregard the fact that she spent the majority of her time with Emma slinging barbs at her job, her vehicle and her overall personality. If Emma wanted to pay attention to her (after years of forcing herself not to care whether or not she did) then she just _might_ be tipsy enough to allow it.

"I... uh... look, I just wanted to buy the pretty lady a drink." He stammered, looking at Regina for some support; as if he wasn't actually the one-night-stand creep he was making himself out to be. Emma chuckled, a smug sort of laugh that made Regina all at once amused and exasperated.

"That's not what it looked like you were interested in.” Emma sighed knowingly, shaking her head with mock pity. “Unfortunately for you, she's _my_ date tonight." She paused, leaning in for the kill." _And_ we have a child together, so you are _much_ too late pal, I promise."

He regarded Regina with disgust, leaning in so closely that both women could smell the fresh mint on his breath. " _You_ have a kid?"

Emma smirked and nodded once in his direction, placing her hand over Regina's resting on the bar top, effectively halting whatever explanation she had been preparing to give. "Now, if you'll kindly remove your hand from her thigh, you can continue your little nice guy, peacock show with someone else."

He returned his attention to Regina incredulously, and then narrowed his eyes as though he was finally getting whatever joke Emma was trying to play. "Oh, come on. I think I would've known if I were flirting with a lesbian." He smirked, popping the right cheek dimple that would make him mildly attractive if it weren't obvious he used it to seem more suave and appealing than he actually was. "You're a good friend, but she doesn't need you to save her. I'm harmless, and she's obviously into me."

With an amused little sigh, Regina looked out of the corner of her eye at his unwarranted, confident face and decided to have a little fun of her own. She had noticed Emma’s presence at roughly the same time he had approached her, and so she had truthfully only entertained him for this long to garner such a reaction from the other woman. _Might as well_ , she thought, _if he thinks this sad attempt would have gone somewhere_. She shrugged in response, plucked the cherry from her martini, and popped it into her mouth innocently. " _Is_ that was you were doing? Flirting?”  

The man looked stricken; he didn't seem particularly accustomed to being questioned. “Well, I…”

“Because if walking up to a woman, flashing what I'm sure the _simple_ minded women of your past have told you makes you attractive, including that hideous watch, propositioning her with no skill or class, and then claiming you're harmless is flirting, you might want to work on your _moves_ if you're going to impress anyone tonight. You certainly did nothing for me."

His eyes flashed and he turned his nose up at her with a derisive scoff. He looked from one woman to the other for a moment before rolling his eyes and easing off of the barstool, backing up with his hands raised in surrender. "Whatever, I don't need this. You're hot, but not that hot."

As he scooped his glass brusquely from the bar top and walked away, he tossed the jab over his shoulder quietly. " _Bitch_."

Emma’s body angled towards him as he walked away, watching his retreat and smirking to herself proudly. Once satisfied that he’d moved on to the next target, she turned to look Regina dead in the eyes.

"For the record, you _are_ that hot. And he's nothing close to what you deserve." Emma smiled, then all at once became embarrassed and lost her bravado. _What are you doing?_ She shrugged a one-shouldered dismissal of the complement and raised her hand to the bartender. "Two shots of tequila?"

Regina drew in a deep breath, crossed her arms, and leaned forward against the railing of the bar as she let it out slowly, evenly, trying hard to ignore the way her heart leapt at Emma's words. She hadn't been planning on having more than one martini before retiring to her room, but then Emma had shown up and, as usual, Regina's plan seemed to crack and fall apart. She cleared her throat and turned her whole body to focus solely on glaring at Emma.

"I don't know what made you think I needed saving just now, but I was perfectly capable of handling my own suitor."

"Come on, Regina, it's like... girl code 101. You jump in and pretend to be the girlfriend when some gross dude won't take a hint. You were totally giving me 'come save me' eyes back there."

Regina couldn't help the tiniest tickle of disappointment low in her belly at Emma's confirmation of his accusation. "I assure you, I've handled myself fine thus far without some kind of _savior_ coming to my rescue." She paused and added a sneer for good measure. "And was it really necessary for you to kiss me?"

Emma laughed, her focus on the two shot glasses being placed in front of them, along with a few limes and a shaker of salt. "Trust me, if I was going to kiss you, I'd be a lot less subtle about it. That was just a peck on the cheek for show. Calm down."

Regina nodded once unnoticeably, pointedly ignoring her and huffed as Emma nudged one of the small glasses closer to the side of her hand. She glanced down at it in disgust before retorting to her spontaneous companion, "I prefer to sip something a little smoother than this. I don't take shots like a classless teenager."

Emma shrugged, shaking a generous amount of salt into the crevice between her thumb and index finger. "I don't need an education on the quality of tequila, Regina, I own a bar. I'm buying, so we're doing this my way.” She silenced Regina’s attempted protest by gently lifting her hand from the bartop and arranging the shot glass within her grasp. “And we’re not gonna _sip_ it, that’s not what it’s made for."

She expertly licked the salt from her hand, tossed the chilled amber liquid down the back of her throat, and bit into one of the limes to counteract the flavor of the alcohol. Regina, to her surprise, sighed and then repeated the process as smoothly as if she were a regular at Emma's bar.

Regina coughed slightly, a little pleasant shudder causing her shoulders to shimmy. Emma smirked, and lifted her hand to flag down the busy bartender, her brows raised in question at Regina. "Yeah? Another?"

The Mayor hesitated, then shrugged casually while looking away towards the grand piano, which Emma took as a yes. She raised two fingers and made quick eye contact with the guy, who nodded in understanding and turned immediately to pour her drinks while in the middle of making another order.

That was one of the perks of her job; the service industry people always sort of knew, somehow, that she was going to take care of them if they took care of her. Maybe it was a certain vibe. She could never figure out how, but she could always tell within minutes when another bartender was sitting at her bar. She smiled kindly and nodded her thanks as he delivered their second round, quickly returning to attend to his other customers.

"I’d forgotten how well you do that,” Regina commented casually as Emma deposited her empty glass onto the bar.

Emma’s face screwed up in confusion, and although Regina’s body remained mostly forward towards the bar, Emma turned completely to face her. “How well I do what?”

“Take shots,” Regina clarified, crossing her legs at the knee to angle herself more towards Emma. If she were being honest, she knew that her dress would inch higher _just so_ in a way that would divert Emma’s attention completely, and she had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes when she was right. It was unexpected, the way Emma was so suddenly there in her life and paying that certain sort of _attention_ to Regina, but she had waited a long time for it. There was no way she could _not_ entertain it just a little. She cleared her throat, drawing Emma’s eyes back to her own, and continued. “You always threw them back like it was just…apple juice.”

“Lots of practice, I guess,” Emma shrugged, a playful smile beginning to show. A small one in return was all that came as a response; while Regina gratefully accepted the water that the bartender placed on the bar before her, Emma simply observed her. This was a woman she hadn't properly spoken to for nearly a decade, and yet already there was something that felt comfortable and familiar about her. The way she sat so tall, regally even, elbows resting gently against the bar with her chin propped against tightly wound fingers. Her hair fell _just_ so against its own part with any turn of her head, particularly with each little glance through her peripheral vision at Emma. She was the picture of elegance, and Emma found herself feeling somehow out of her league and on top of the world all at once.

But mostly, she felt blown away by the strength of the attraction she had never truly acknowledged until now.

Sure, Regina had always been gorgeous, but Emma had barely known her, despite their near-constant adolescent proximity. But here they were, brought together by some force stronger than either of them, hundreds of miles from home. Emma felt it would be wrong not to try to...explore it. Fate was a powerful thing, after all.

“Do you always stay in such nice hotels?” She inquired curiously, drawing Regina’s attention, and she cringed at how stupid the icebreaker was.

“My mother prefers the Ritz-Carlton. I chose it out of habit, to be honest.” She shrugged,

“And do you always do what mother wants?"

She adjusted her posture and hardened her face. "Yes."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Emma sighed, not wanting to ruin the moment or the evening when things were just starting to progress in her favor. "I'm sure it was never easy. I remember her being a real monster to you."

"Yes, well, we play with the hand we're dealt, don't we?"

"Yeah. I guess we kind of had opposite ends of the growing up experience. I know it's not the same," she paused, raising her hands into the air in surrender, just to make sure Regina knew she wasn't downplaying what an awful childhood Regina had had by any means. When she received a soft nod to continue she smiled a little to herself. Regina Mills actually wanted to hear what she had to say...and it felt _good._  "You remember my mother as a principal, how overbearing she was at school, but at home she was, _is_ , absolutely suffocating. She’s the kind of mom who criticizes everything you wear and drapes a scratchy sweater over your shoulders because what you have on is 'too revealing'..."

Regina stifled a laugh behind the back of her hand, her eyes glimmering with mirth. "You? Revealing? In jeans and baseball tee shirts? Where was she when we were in college? She'd have had a heart attack."

"Which is obviously why I moved to Boston for school in the first place. I dressed way more inappropriately than I should have _because_ she wasn't around." Emma rolled her eyes at herself and her ridiculous 'rebellion' years. "I hated the idea of moving back, honestly, subjecting Henry to what it feels like to be lived on top of all the time." Emma shrugged a little under Regina's scrutiny, reaching out to grab her hand and squeeze it slightly. "But I guess now I'm glad I did."

Regina scoffed and then sighed sadly, pulling her hand away from Emma's grasp. "With all this mess I've somehow inadvertently involved you in?"

"Definitely. You shouldn't have to go through this alone,” Emma gulped, risking the statement to make sure Regina knew tonight wasn’t a one-night kind of thing. “You know…again."

"I've always gone through everything alone. It...tends to be easier. The less people are involved, the less disappointment you feel when they hurt you. Because they always do in the end."

Emma winced. She knew Regina wasn’t slinging a barb at her, that it was merely flowing out of her like they’d always been friends. But, she thought, it was good. Her opening up like this, even if it was just the alcohol and even if she was more talking outloud than actually _to_ Emma. But, in order to keep her talking she decided to continue. "I _hate_ that you've thought badly of me this whole time. I think we could have been good friends if I'd known you wanted that."

Regina sighed, long and loud and from somewhere deep within herself, like she’d been holding it in her entire life. She tilted her head away from Emma slightly, as if trying to put distance between them unconsciously. "Of course you think that now. But I made it abundantly clear a decade ago that I was very interested in, well, _anything_ that had to do with you and you clearly had _no_ idea.”

Emma nodded to herself, shifting awkwardly in her seat. “So you keep saying, and what, exactly were these signals I so completely missed? I feel like such a self-absorbed idiot.”

“Well…” Regina drawled, eyeing Emma from the corner of her eye. Emma thought she detected just a hint of a smirk, and it gave her just a little hope that maybe this conversation wouldn’t end with a drink thrown at her face. “For instance, all those times I gave you my homework to copy after you stayed out or up too late and forgot to do yours, even against my better judgement. Or when I let you fall asleep on the couch in my room after you fought with Ruby or when you were sick."

Emma quickly interrupted her at a laughable pause. Making fun of herself and her ridiculous relationship would definitely help ease some of the tension. "I'd forgotten that I used to do that! Sometimes I would sneak in there just because it was more comfortable than my own bed."

“Didn’t you ever wonder why the door was never locked and why there was always a blanket and pillow lain out on top of the ottoman waiting for you?”

Emma blushed and shrugged, looking a little at Regina as she bowed her head to escape her expectant gaze. She _had_ never thought of it before. Never thought Regina could have left those things out just for her. That knowledge unlocked so many things inside her brain and she instantly felt a clarity she’d never had before. Emma continued, feeling a lightness settle between them for the first time in many years; one for which she was infinitely grateful.

“That was the best couch _ever._ Certainly the best I’ve ever slept on.”

Regina chuckled a little, running her finger around the rim of the glass in front of her. "You _would_ have a plethora of knowledge on that subject. Do you often find yourself in the doghouse, Miss Swan?"

"Wha...no...I'm just...not a picky sleeper."

"Ah, so that's it. You’re just not _picky_. That makes _so_ much sense."

“Whatever,” Emma huffed, “So maybe I was in the doghouse sometimes. Women are so... _emotional._ And so much more when you're dating one. Particularly _that_ one.”

“And yet she’s always seemed like such a lovely little thing,” Regina mused sarcastically, “But I suppose I'll just have to take your word for it. I'm rather inexperienced in that area.”

“What, dating women?” Emma chuckled, her eyes gleaming with mirth. “Come on, everyone has a phase in college.”

Regina bit her tongue against the first few things she _wanted_ to say in response. “Well, I didn't.”

“Not even once?” Emma goaded, leaning ever closer to her. She could feel the tension rolling off of Regina in waves, but the tension felt...intoxicating, even more so than anything they’d consumed thus far. It was the combination of the two that had her pushing just a _little_ more. “Weren’t you ever... _curious_?”

Regina gulped, her eyes trained on the dwindling amount of amber liquid in the pint glass clutched tightly in one palm. She couldn't stop the sudden flashes of remembered, hidden desire, a decade old, splaying across the forefront of her mind of what exactly had indeed made her so _curious._

She sighed, and thought, and remembered. _Fingers tangled within blonde curls_ . She took a swift, long pull from her glass, the liquid burning her through as she avoided Emma’s intent, teasing gaze. _Lips pressed to her throat, a very feminine, yet toned body pinning hers to her bed._ Emma had been so close, and yet so far then, much the same as she was in this moment, one barstool over and yet impossibly within Regina’s immediate space. _Soft hands roaming everywhere._ She met Emma’s bright, burning green eyes then, and found that she couldn't quite breathe.

Oh, she’d been curious, alright. And it hadn't taken more than a little prompting and a little alcohol to bring it back with a vengeance. But this time, she wasn’t alone with those dangerous thoughts, late at night when she could feel safe enough to indulge the fantasy.

Emma was here, _asking_ her about it, and she didn’t feel safe at all.

She hated it.

She _loved it._

“Buy me another drink,” Regina suggested impulsively, and Emma blinked back in satisfied surprise. There was still a quarter of their last round in Regina’s glass, but if the lady wanted another beer, she would certainly oblige.

“Oh! Yeah, sure,” Emma shrugged pleasantly, turning away slightly to signal for the preoccupied bartender. The lounge had filled to a surprising degree for a Monday evening, and despite the later hour, there was still an overwhelming number of guests for him to entertain. “Can we have two more...what was this?”

“Draft Blue Moon,” the man replied, distracted as he counted and poured another order into a shaker.

Emma crinkled her nose in displeasure. She’d barely touched hers, too preoccupied with all the sudden attention her brain wanted to devote to Regina instead of drinking.

“No, Emma,” Regina pushed her glass away delicately with one finger, and their eyes met. “A _real_ drink.”

“Oh. _Oh_ ,” Emma drawled, sudden realization dawning on her. “Yes. Okay. Margarita?”

“Perfect,” Regina sighed, and before long, two very tall, well-made mixed drinks sat untouched before them. Emma had just been asking so many questions, and every part of her wanted to be able to answer them. She had spent years building walls to protect her emotional walls, though, and it would take more than just Emma’s sudden interest to aid in breaking through them.

“To friendship?” Emma suggested happily, sweeping her own glass from the bar and offering it to Regina for a toast. Her eyes shone and her lips turned upwards with the hint of a smile, and Regina found it impossible not to smile in return.

“To...honesty,” Regina supplied, reaching out to mint the offer with a gentle _clink._

They continued to banter for quite a while longer. The time faded away just like the stress and tension from the morning did. They reminisced over college; Emma told a few embarrassing stories about Ruby that would probably get her in trouble later, but Regina _particularly_ enjoyed hearing them. The suggestive, satisfied _look_ she gave, as well as the casual placement of her left hand on top of Emma's thigh, were definitely worth telling a few secrets. On the off chance that tonight was a one-time-only thing, she was willing to soak up every second of closeness, of laughter, of smiles, of the sexy smirks that made her feel like she’d done something _so_ right that she could definitely die a very happy woman tonight and be perfectly fine with it.

One very important thing Emma had forgotten, though, was that Regina Mills was a lightweight. They’d shared a few bottles of cheap alcohol as housemates years ago, but she never remembered her getting anywhere _near_ the level of intoxicated she was now. But she liked it. Because when Regina was drunk, Regina got _extremely_ handsy. And any self-respecting lesbian would always be okay with that.

Emma assumed over the years that Regina would have learned how to hold her liquor, and she'd seen her drink down that famous apple cider, but apparently, even still, if you got some tequila in that woman she would all but hit the floor. Giggly, goofy, and absolutely beautiful... and so completely... _unfamiliar._

She hated to admit that she was attracted to her, and pretty much had been since college. How could any human _not_ be attracted to Regina? Her brilliant brown eyes that lit up when she smiled. The way her mouth curved into that damn wicked smirk. It was irritating. Infuriating even. Their constant back and forth, on-the-edge-of-angry banter was enough to drive Emma crazy.

And as she found herself keeping Regina from falling off her stool as the piano player announced the end of his ‘show’, realizing that they were practically closing down the bar, she was learning all over again that she really didn't know much about Regina Mills at all, even though she’d known her practically her entire life.

And that damned dress hiking up more and more with each time Regina squirmed, her posture loosened as a deeper buzz set in, certainly wasn't helping either. Thoroughly distracting.

"Do you...remember," Regina scrunched her nose as she held out the 'you' a little longer than she'd meant to. She paused and rubbed her left temple, attempting to straighten her mind out. "Do you remember the time that I caught you making out with your insipid girlfriend on _my_ bed?" She smirked at Emma's loud gulp. "And how she spread rumors that I was _spying_ on the two of you, _in my own room_ because I was a closeted _lesbian?"_

Emma froze mid sip-and quirked an eyebrow at her. "What are you talking about, Regina?"

Laser-eyed and focused intently on Emma's face, Regina spat out in a mocking tone, "Please, like you weren't involved in _that_ particular scheme."

"I...wasn't. I didn't...this whole time you thought I'd do something that awful to you? I would _never_ , I promise you."

"Of course you did. You and your _precious_ _gem_ of a _girlfriend."_

"Roommate." The correction was so automatic, Emma couldn’t have stopped it if she tried. At the stricken, haughty look on Regina’s face, though, she wished she could scoop the word right back into her mouth.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize we needed to be politically correct with each other. Of course, your ‘roommate.’"

She punctuated the term with fingers clumsily forming quotations in the space between them, paired with a knowing look, and Emma could not have been more confused. She'd never known about this incident. Truthfully, most of college for her had been a bit of a blur until her pregnancy, but she would never have _knowingly_ done something to hurt Regina like that. She'd always liked her; thought she was a little strange, perhaps, but always held a sort of fondness for the mysterious and exceptionally beautiful brunette.

“I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about. I mean,” she amended fairly, interrupting what looked like an impending rebuttal from Regina, “I'm sure it did happen, I won't argue with that. Ruby and I used to…well, there weren't many places we didn't--”

“Do not finish that sentence,” Regina warned, and she leaned further into Emma’s space, a firmly planted palm on the blonde’s thigh for support, squeezing a little to steady herself as Emma bit her bottom lip and heaved a staggered breath. “The teenager in me isn't fond of the direction you're going.”

“Oh?” Emma gulped; Regina was rapidly becoming entwined with her in what, she knew rationally, were very subtle ways, but to Emma, they couldn't have felt more overt. That hand on her thigh squeezed again just slightly, this time intentionally, and soon enough the fingers of Regina’s other hand became tangled in blonde curls, twisting and tugging on the ends absentmindedly as she blearily stared at her in that endearing way drunk women had about them.

“Mmhm,” Regina confirmed, a little sigh escaping her, “when I used to imagine you in my bed, your idiot girlfriend was definitely not part of the fantasy.”

Emma quirked her head just slightly, curious as to how far she could push this, hopeful she could get some potentially _delicious_ answers if she kept her going on this train of thought. "So you've fantasized about me...in your bed?"

Regina sighed, raising her eyebrows in a mocking, ' _obviously,_ ' kind of response. "On occasion."

She turned to face the bar now, resting at least one of her hands on its top and eyeing the bartender for a beer to match Emma's, giving her something to do so she could pretend she wasn't holding onto Emma's thigh with a vice like grip. If she didn't, she would bury both of them deep within Emma's curls and undoubtedly try to pull her in for a kiss. The curls killed her, even if they were _so_ infuriatingly... _blonde_.

The damn tequila.

Emma took a large gulp of her drink and tentatively placed her palm on top of Regina’s hand, causing her to dig her fingers into her thigh again. Emma became a little more brave. “What kind of occasions?”

Regina smirked, not turning to look in Emma's direction, but releasing her grip on Emma's leg to run the tip of her finger along the rim of her beer in contemplation. She was drunk, but not _stupid_ drunk, so she was thoroughly enjoying the places this conversation had the potential to go. She continued pretending she was a bit farther into the alcohol than she actually was so Emma wouldn't lose her nerve. “You know…” Regina drawled, as her tongue swiped subtly across her lips once before she pursed them in contemplation. “Just…on _occasion_ . Usually late. _Always_ alone.”

“And you never thought to...I don't know, call me?”

“ _Call_ you?” Regina spat out, almost accusatory, as she turned in to face her once more, “and what would I have said to you?"

"Literally anything! ’I'm alone in my bed, thinking of you late into the night, and I want to see you?’ That's _insanely_ sexy. Who wouldn't want to get a call like that?"

"Oh?” Regina prompted, resting her elbow on the bar for support, her fingers threading through her hair as she leaned her head against her hand. In a voice that became suddenly much deeper, she murmured quietly, “And what would you have said if you had received that call?"  

Her mind completely blanked; she sagged in her seat, defeated. Emma was _very_ smooth with women. it was a well-perfected rhythm that she had been fairly famous for in her day, but this particular woman made her nervous in ways she definitely wasn't used to. She decided just to be honest. “Well, I don't know,” Emma repeated, her face flushing as she struggled to come up with an answer. She decided instead to direct the question back onto Regina herself. “What did you think about?”

"You're deflecting, dear." Regina shook her head disapprovingly and it felt like Emma had been stabbed in the gut. "How unbecoming."

Regina waved her hand dismissively and sighed, backing away again and looking around the bar at anyone _other_ than Emma.

Emma squirmed in her seat, unsure what to do with herself. "Okay, okay. Fine.” She sighed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. She was the picture of discomfort, the polar opposite of the way she _wanted_ to come across to the captivating woman questioning her. “I probably would been _very_ nervous and blurted out something stupid. Like right now."

"You certainly have a way with women, don't you?"

"Hey!” Emma retorted, “That's not fair."

Regina nearly launched into a drunken lecture about the concept of _fair_ , but quickly managed restraint. It wouldn’t do to ruin more than an hour’s worth of subtle, slow seduction. "Then tell me, if I _wanted_ you," she sighed, biting her lip in the process; she settled both palms on the tops of Emma’s thighs, leaning in closer than she had all night, "right now, right in this moment, what would you say to me?"

It took a moment to decide, but the yearning, pointed look in Regina’s eyes motivated her. Never one for words over actions (Emma was _excellent_ with her hands, after all,) she leaned in slowly, sliding her fingers along the hem of the burgundy dress, lightly digging her nails into the outside of Regina's thighs. She snuggled up close to her neck, her lips ghosting ever so close to her ear and said, "You are the most beautiful woman I've _ever_ seen.” She paused, nuzzling her neck just slightly to make her squirm. "And I've wanted nothing more than to kiss every inch of your body," she paused again, _feeling_ more so than hearing Regina almost inaudibly gasp at the bold, brazen statement, "since you looked me in the eyes and dared me to intervene with your _suitor_ hours ago."

“Well, that...would certainly be something,” Regina sighed, an encouragement, her head tilted back as the lips by her ear began to press impossibly soft, slow kisses into her hair and down her neck. Her vision blurred, some side effect of the alcohol and the attention, and she knew somewhere in the back of her mind that this wasn’t quite the time or the place to have this conversation. Not if Emma’s kisses ventured anywhere else. Not if a hand happened to innocently slip under the hem of her dress, like it was threatening to now.

“Hmm?” Emma hummed, the tip of her nose tracing the shell of Regina’s ear before placing a kiss against her jawline.

She had wanted this, wanted nothing _more_ than this, for longer than she could remember. She’d closed her eyes and imagined this feeling every time someone else’s lips followed those same paths; each time someone else’s hands wandered over her body.

The thought sobered her just the slightest bit. She could never have called Emma at any of those times, all alone, indulging in her silly, childish fantasy. She’d never given her more than those few fleeting, stolen moments so long ago.

“But what if the call had been something else?” Regina asked quietly, and Emma barely heard her, her lips still moving over and over the juncture of Regina’s neck and shoulder, drawing more attention from their fellow bar patrons than Regina was accustomed.

“What?” Emma murmured against her skin, her hands holding gently onto her hips, and although Regina hated herself a little for it, she pulled away blearily, tilting her head to meet Emma’s confused, serious gaze.

"What if it had been, 'I had to give up my daughter and I'm miserably alone, full of guilt and I hate that I can't stop thinking of you, wishing you'd pay attention to me, wishing you _loved_ _me…_ ” Her throat closed over the vulnerability, so she desperately threw out a sarcastic finishing touch, “but do come over for a booty call, we'll have a hell of a time. What would you have done then?"

Emma pulled back completely, but kept her hands firmly around Regina's waist. "Wait, you wanted me to love you?"

She scoffed outwardly, but her brain raced over the admission. _Oops._ "Forget it. It's not important."

"No, I won't forget it, it's very important."

"Emma, please? Please just change the subject."

"But, I..."

Shaking her head and realizing that Emma wouldn't drop it, no matter how fervently she begged, Regina decided to throw a curveball. Anything would be better than this particular line of questioning. She was _too_ drunk to have that conversation, if she even wanted to have it at all. Flirtation and seduction were fun and easy and a good first step for them, but love? Love was way too much. She'd let herself be a little _too_ forthcoming and that had to end.

"We...we have a kid, Emma. Together. Isn't that... _funny_ ?" She slammed her hand down on the bar and swung around to lean away from the woman, hoping that she'd be too overwhelmed with the sudden change in topic and loss of proximity, and in her behavior, that she'd fall into her divergent trap. Emma chuckled, nodding blearily in response, still completely unsure where the shift in conversation had come from, but not willing to let the evening end _quite_ yet, as Regina continued with her drunken rant.

"Oh, God," Regina groaned, slumping down and away and resting her head in her hands on the bar. "We have a child. Together! She's going to come home with us in the morning and then...we'll just...poof," she made the most adorable explosion gesture with her fingers that made Emma smile and then immediately regret it as she received the dirtiest look. "We'll be her parents, just like that. Here, have a child, they said, take her home like you didn't give her away in the first place! Have a happy little life with your new happy little family." She rambled on, watching Emma trying to decode everything she was saying and follow along. To her credit, she was being _very_ present and Regina appreciated it, even if she had to goad her away from the annoying four letter word she had let slip from her too-loose lips.

"But wait, can we go back to what you said a minute ago? Please?"

She'd clearly failed to dissuade her into another line of conversation, and as she tended to do when she was afraid or backed into a corner, she decided that hurting her was the only way left to go. "What the hell am I supposed to tell Robin?"

Emma choked, completely taken aback that she'd invited _a man_ into their evening, especially when there had been _something_ happening between them that was inherently _not_ heterosexual. She scoffed, completely put off now. "He...Robin doesn't know? About Leila? Jesus, Regina, that guy is like...your fiancé. How can he not know?"

Regina turned her head to the side in a slow, drunken move, her bleary eyes meeting Emma's, a hardened expression crossing her face. "Because he's been on a 'camping' trip all week with his fraternity brothers, and they're not due back until Wednesday. I haven't been able to contact him, so no, he doesn't know anything about Leila, or even that I'm in Boston right now."

Emma kind of loved that even while absolutely hammered, Regina’s precise vocabulary remained intact.

"Wow," Emma laughed, shaking her head, "that's a big surprise to come home to."

"It is," Regina agreed somberly, her head bobbing up and down, "I can just imagine how that conversation's going to go. 'Welcome home, darling. Since you last saw me, I've become a mother to the sixteen year old girl I gave up for adoption. And now I share custody of said daughter with my unrequited childhood love, who is somehow also legally her mother. How was your...'man-cation’?"

Before Emma could comprehend the surprising admission (tequila always made her head feel a little fuzzy and her clothes a little too warm) Regina distracted her by tilting slightly from her seat, swaying gently as she gripped the bar rail tightly beneath both palms and the heels of her shoes hooked over the rail at their feet before placing them solidly on the ground.

"Whoops!" She laughed a little, elegantly plopping back into her seat and squinted at Emma's hand, frowning. "Why aren't you drinking anymore, Emmma?" She hummed unnecessarily to emphasize the two syllable name. Maybe if she played up her intoxication, she would be successful in her mission to distract Emma thoroughly away from anything too devastatingly _real._

Emma shook her head in disbelief. "We've already done three shots, Regina, if you count the mixed drinks and then the beer. One of us has to be able to make it back to the rooms." She decided it was time to go. While she hated that the possibility existed that tonight would never happen again, she knew if they kept going, Regina might become an _angry_ drunk, and she didn't want to end on such a low note. Especially when they'd made so much progress. She sighed, shaking her head. "Speaking of which, would you like me to help you up to yours?"

Regina threw her head back in laughter, her hair brushing softly against Emma's hand that rested on her back for support.

"And why would... _you_... want to help me there? Hmm? You don't even _like_ me."

Her heart twinged at the muddled despair in Regina’s voice. She thought that they'd established over the last however many drinks and however many passing hours that they _both_ liked each other, in whatever ways, and that this had been somewhat of a fresh start. And Emma was confused and a little hurt at the accusation and felt the dismissal deep in her gut.

"That's not true and you know it, don't say that." Regina gave her a dirty look and she knew the night was over and she wouldn’t be able to turn it back into light, easy, or sexy. "Why don't we get you upstairs? Everything will be better in the morning."

Regina furrowed her brow, shaking her head. "You're just going to leave me again, Em...ma. I don't want to go. _You_ can go."

Emma frowned. _Again?_ To her knowledge, she'd never overtly left Regina, at least not in the way she was accusing her. Maybe it was just the alcohol talking and she just needed to sleep it off. But, with a sudden surge of bravery, she covered Regina’s hand with her own, lacing their fingers together tightly. Because she was being dismissed, not the other way around, and she'd be damned if she let Regina get away with that particular barb.

“Let me make sure you’re okay.”

She felt Regina squeeze her hand in response.

“If you insist.”

Maybe everything would be okay after all.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

It had been a challenge simply to get upstairs with all parts of them intact and uninjured. Regina had practically fallen asleep twice in the elevator, draped over Emma's shoulders. She’d gotten her heel stuck in the door opening as she stumbled across the elevator threshold (and thoroughly freaked out over it.) She'd thrown a fit while Emma tried to find the room key, insisting that she could do it, and then immediately plopped onto the bed when Emma ran into the bathroom to get her some water. Thankfully, she'd decided to take the path of least resistance and tumbled them both into her own room, bypassing Regina's completely, otherwise she's not sure they both would have made it in one piece.

There was no way Regina could handle her drunkenness without Emma there to take care of her, and she had no desire to extract herself from the brunette's vicinity anytime soon anyway. She'd bask in it for as long as she possibly could. After all, taking care of beautiful, inebriated women was sort of in Emma's job description.

Thankfully, a duffel bag full of clothing and other necessities was tossed casually onto the table next to the bathroom (she was still here to visit Henry, after all) and Emma breathed a sigh of relief at the familiarity of her things. Dealing with an emotionally and cognitively compromised Regina would be so much easier once she got herself out of the stuffy, rarely-worn professional attire she'd carefully chosen for Leila's emancipation hearing that morning.

"Emma," Regina murmured, her arms curling above her head at an odd angle as the blonde eased her softly onto the pristine, white hotel bed, "I'm tired."

"I bet," Emma soothed absentmindedly, kicking off her leather boots and quickly crossing the room to rifle through their clothing options. Regina, of course, hadn't expected to spend the night in the city, so Emma knew her only option for sleepwear was the fitted burgundy dress she'd been wearing all day. And yeah, she looked great in it, but it certainly wouldn’t be comfortable to wear to bed. Especially not when she awoke the next morning with a hangover.

A soft, slightly wrinkled, and much too oversized Rabbit Hole t-shirt was probably her best bet. Emma shook her head with a soft smirk; Regina wasn't going to like it.

With a quick peek over her shoulder, Emma saw that Regina had closed her eyes and was breathing evenly, her lithe frame twisted in the middle of the king sized bed. Her arms were thrown above her head and her legs were crossed at the ankles in the opposite direction. Something warm stirred within Emma at the sight. She wasn't sure the last time she'd seen Regina so... calm. She almost hated to disturb her, but it was for the best.

"Hey," she murmured, plopping down on the bed near Regina's shoulder and giving it a gentle shove. "You'll be a lot more comfortable if you change out of that dress."

Regina cracked one eye open, looked from Emma's face down to the crinkled, heather gray shirt in her lap, and then back up again before simply shutting her eye and placing her forearm across both. "I don't think so."

"Don't make me do it for you," Emma warned, gently tugging Regina's arm by the elbow away from her face.

"You're welcome to try," Regina sighed, pushing herself up on her elbows and trying to still the spinning of her head. "But really, I'm fine."

"There's nothing worse than waking up in night-before clothes, Regina. You're already going to have a hangover, at least you can be comfortable."

Realizing she would likely spend the next few minutes in a pointless argument if she chose not to comply, Regina acquiesced and grabbed the shirt roughly from Emma's outstretched hand. She cautiously turned her body to sit at the edge of the bed, thankful that she seemed to have already tossed her shoes from her aching feet. Emma reached out to steady her, but Regina batted her hand away.

"I'm perfectly capable of undressing myself, Miss Swan." And yet, she immediately began to struggle with the long, golden zipper along the back of her dress that she couldn't quite reach on her own.

 _How does she get dressed every morning without pulling a muscle?_ Emma mused, only allowing Regina to struggle for a few more entertaining moments.

"But what if I want to?" she suggested, crawling forward on her knees across the bed and settling just behind Regina, her hand immediately drawn to the tiny metal just out of Regina's reach. If she’d learned anything in the last few hours, it was that Regina wouldn’t say no to such a direct offer.

Within a moment more of hesitation and a resigned huff, Regina scooted out of Emma's reach and slowly stood at the foot of the bed to give Emma, who remained seated somewhere behind her, better access to the back of her dress. She sagged slightly and shivered as Emma's fingers brushed softly against the nape of her neck; she smoothed Regina’s hair to one side and tugged at the zipper, and _very_ slowly, the back of her dress began to gape open to the cool air.

In that one moment, Emma suddenly became very aware of _everything_ . She couldn't help but notice the smoothness of every inch of skin being revealed to her, the hint of black lace at the clasp of Regina's bra moving between toned shoulders. The way tiny goosebumps appeared as her skin remained exposed to the cool air. _Does it normally take this long to unzip these?_

Then, quite accidentally, her knuckles brushed against the bare skin at the small of Regina’s back where the zipper ended, and she swore she heard a tiny gasp at the contact. As the dark red fabric slid down first, slowly, over one shoulder, and then the other, their eyes met just briefly in the mirror on the wall above the dresser before them.

And though Regina’s burned with the burden of their new future and the weight of the alcohol, she held Emma’s gaze as she let the rest of the material fall away, and Emma knew they burned with a little something else, too.

“Emma?”

But she was mesmerized by all of the impossibly smooth skin suddenly right in front of her face, and she couldn’t help but lean the slightest bit forward and place a soft, but firm kiss just under her shoulder blade. Regina swayed at the contact, and so Emma instinctively reached out to steady her.

In retrospect, she’d know that this was the precise moment they lost any semblance of control.

“Emma.” Regina repeated, her palms settling over the tops of Emma’s hands where they grasped her firmly by the hips. She knew exactly the situation she had found herself in; more than a little intoxicated, in a darkened hotel room, away from home with the one person she’d ever desired more than any other. She allowed herself to fold into the embrace, her fingers lacing loosely within Emma’s grasp. She took in the vision in the mirror, appreciated the waves of blonde hair spilling over from behind her mid-section. “If I _wanted_ you,” she echoed her question from hours ago, “right now, right in this moment, what would you say?”

Emma gulped, her forehead falling forward to rest against that little dip in Regina’s lower back, just above black lace. What could she possibly say to that? There was no part of her that could imagine rejecting Regina in a moment like this, not after everything she’d said. And not only that, but everything about this impossibly incredible woman that was drawing her closer, deeper and all she could think of was _more_.

More skin. More kisses. More time.

More than friends.

The soft, somewhat floral, _clean_ smell of every inch of her skin. The way she felt under Emma’s hands. The inviting, warm, delicious way she said her name.

“Emma...answer me.”

She did it again. _Damn_.

She sighed, smirking into her skin. "To you? Probably something not at all sexy, but completely honest."

Regina grinned; it was such an _Emma_ thing to say. She unclasped their fingers to turn around and face her.

It was more than Emma could take, to so suddenly be faced with so _much_ of Regina. What was _wrong_ with her? It wasn’t like she’d never found herself in the presence of a gorgeous, half-naked woman before. She had certainly always known she had a certain effect on women; what she hadn’t prepared for was the certain effect Regina was having on _her_. It was all too much. The flushed skin of Regina’s stomach threatening to brush against the tip of her nose. The unbelievably distracting cleavage showcased by a garment so delicate and alluring that Emma couldn’t believe Regina would just wear it on your average Monday.

"Please look at me?"

Emma's hands couldn't be stopped from traveling up over Regina's torso, back down her sides, lazily trailing over her thighs. It seemed there was no part of her that Emma wasn't desperate to touch. She buried the side of her face into Regina's stomach, placing a soft kiss just above her bellybutton, hoping to escape this uncharted line of questioning from the brunette.

"What would you say?"

Emma met her sharp, imploring gaze, nervous but honest. "That I don't want to hurt you."

"Why do you think you could?"

" _I_ wouldn't, but somehow I _did_ without even knowing it."

"Emma..."

"No, Regina."

"I'm standing in front of you, right now, telling you that I _want_ you. So, tell me,” she murmured low, placing a palm on each of Emma’s shoulders.  “What do _you_ want?"

 _"More."_ It was the first word that leapt to Emma’s mind, and she knew as soon as it left her lips that it was true.

"More?" Regina repeated.

"Everything?"

"Hmm." She could do little more than hum, as Emma punctuated her request with a firm kiss against her breastbone, followed by several more, each more convincing than the last.

"I want the rest of tonight with you.” Emma kissed her chest softly, slowly.  “I want tomorrow.” Her kisses continued, traveling up the column of her throat. “And the day after."

“I’m not asking about anything more than right now.” Regina choked out, resting her cheek against the crown of Emma’s head, one hand cradling the back of her neck. It was closer than she could’ve ever imagined being with her, and every inch of her exposed skin tingled with anticipation. She’d never been quite this brave in all her life, but if there was a time for it, then it was now. She sighed. “In _this_ moment, Emma, what do you want?”

Emma took a second to look at the woman in front of her. She looked so earnest, so vulnerable, so exposed; but also so _damn_ confident wearing so very little that she felt there was nothing else she _could_ do but kiss her.

But, she had been. Repeatedly. Deliciously along her jaw and neck, distractingly at the base of her spine and the lines and edges of her shoulders. And Regina hadn't reciprocated yet. She hadn't indicated beyond tiny gasps and hums, as her skin vibrated against Emma's lips, that she would allow her to push past this boundary of their relationship.

And she was also _very_ drunk.

The last thing that Emma wanted to do was take advantage of Regina in any form; of her honesty, of her beauty, of her _body,_ of the feelings she knew weren't buried as deeply (or that weren't _all in the past_ ) as she claimed they were. If there was going to be anything _more_ to, and most especially _between_ them, it had to be by Regina's lead.

"I want you to kiss me," Emma blurted out, and it startled both of them.

"What?" Regina couldn’t help but laugh; if she had been expecting something, well, it wasn’t that.

Emma sighed, her palms pressed flat against Regina’s stomach, loving the heat of her flushed skin under her hands. "Will you? Please? Kiss me. _That's_ what I want."

It was something nobody had ever _asked_ her to do before. She was a beautiful woman; she was quite accustomed to people wanting to kiss her and then just doing it. Even in the most basic forms of intimacy, nobody had truly given her much say in any of it. In fact, she couldn’t recall an intimate encounter that she even particularly enjoyed beyond the basic biology of it all. But there Emma was, standing in front of her, waiting for her to make the first move; asking her to. For a woman who was so damaged by the lack of _choices_ in her life, it was liberating. Exhilarating. Terrifying, even.

But mostly, it was just... _incredibly_ sexy.

And so Regina did, without a moment's hesitation. She pulled the other woman up by her ridiculous tee-shirt and met Emma's distracting smirk with a gentle smile as she leaned in and kissed her. Breathed her in. Reveled in a moment that may have been growing for hours, days, weeks; since she'd shown up in her office all bravado and annoyance; _after she'd brought Leila home_.

For all Emma had taken from her in years past, she had forced her way into that office and _made her listen_ and _stayed_ even amidst Regina's protests. She had been her savior in the tiniest of ways that day, because honestly, she wasn't sure she would have been able to handle having Leila in her town, in her office, _in her life_ , without some sort of anchor; she was so grateful that, somehow, it was Emma.

And for that, her heart beat wildly for the woman once again. She pulled her closer, _never close enough_ , and wound her arms around Emma’s neck as she kissed her again with a newfound passion. With gratitude. With a love she'd thought had withered away.

It was something she'd dreamt of for over a decade.

Kissing Emma was unlike anything she’d experienced before. Her lips were soft and full, and so unbelievably warm; scorching, even, with each frantic kiss that drifted away from her mouth, down her neck, and across her torso. She buried her hands in endless tendrils of soft hair, tugging gently at each insistent, yet playful nip of Emma’s teeth into her skin. Regina had never felt so _wanted;_ it burned like a fire low in her belly, and as Emma scrambled backwards towards the head of the bed, beckoning devilishly for Regina to follow, those imaginary flames threatened to swallow her whole.

Regina’s head swam, a delicious haze of alcohol and lust controlling her every move. She found herself under Emma before long, the crisp, cool linen sheets soothing and soft against her back. Her hands drifted up among the pillows as Emma’s traveled up and down her sides, but Emma quickly followed; fingers were laced together and held tightly above their heads. Emma was driving the action fervently, and Regina could manage little more than the soft, quiet sighs that escaped her with every press of Emma’s hips against her own in conjunction with her mouth against Regina’s neck.

“Regina?” She murmured into her skin, the tip of her nose brushing the outline of her jaw.

“Yes?” She gasped, her head falling to the side naturally to give Emma every bit of access to...well, whatever she could possibly want. She felt one hand slowly drift down her body once more. With a well-timed kiss just below her ear, Regina felt one finger hook into the side of her underwear, the palm of Emma's hand pressing down on her hip to make Regina lift her lower body _just so_. Her heart raced beyond measure, though it was a struggle to even keep her eyes open, no matter how desperately she wanted to stay awake for whatever was about to happen between them.

"You can have whatever you want,” Emma reminded her, a throaty whisper. She took their interlaced hands from beneath the pillows and guided Regina’s to the waistband of her shorts, tilting her head back to meet her gaze.

“Oh,” Regina gasped. “So I should…”

“Yes,” Emma confirmed. “Take them off.”

"Oh...oh _g_ _od_ ," Regina whispered, eyes closed and limbs suddenly too heavy to move much of anywhere. Her thumbs tangled a little in the hem of Emma’s shorts, but nothing really... _happened_ after that.

Emma paused, looking up from where she'd been fervently kissing Regina's neck and waited. Had Regina never undressed someone before? This was strange.

She felt the snore more than she heard it, if that were even possible. The moment Emma realized Regina had fallen asleep, she smiled a little to herself and sat back on her heels beside the beautiful, limp, relaxed body. She couldn't be blamed, Emma reasoned; it was actually impressive that she had managed to function as long as she had without passing out.

One sweeping look reminded Emma that, as nice as it had been while it lasted, Regina’s half-naked body should be covered. It would be terrifying, she would imagine, to awaken in the middle of the night in an unfamiliar place beside an unfamiliar body with very little clothing.

She carefully slid out of the bed, eyes on Regina the whole time to make sure the shift of the mattress didn't wake her, and reached down to grab the gray shirt that had been haphazardly tossed onto the floor. She rolled her eyes at the look Regina had given it and got secret pleasure in the fact that she'd be dressing her in something so _un-_ Regina.

Emma reprimanded herself for gawking, relieved when she got the worn, large shirt over Regina's heavy head and somehow her arms through both sleeves without waking her, the hem settling just to her mid-thigh. She followed the path the fabric settled as it cloaked her previously near-naked form, flushed from the press of her lips and fingertips, stopping momentarily as a blush crept over her own skin when she realized she'd been staring. She pulled the covers over Regina's body, tucking her in, before climbing onto her own side of the bed.

That she was sharing with Regina Mills.

Her heart began to race once more. _What is wrong with you? It's just Regina. You know Regina_.

Much more intimately now than ever before.

But she didn't, not really. The woman that Emma had built up in her head over the years, the larger-than-life, blisteringly cold control freak was completely absent from this room, from this whole evening. This woman was soft. Enchanting. Warm. Inviting. Emma had spent the evening in a hotel bar in Boston with a beautiful, alluring woman that she had never seen before, and she was exhilarated.

Emma sprawled out on her back, hands above and behind her head as the two of them finally settled down, ready for sleep. Emma hoped the long, difficult day would erase itself ( _but never tonight,_ ) and they could all start fresh in the morning.

 

\--------

 

It was barely two in the morning, but it felt like six. All Emma could do was lie there. Millions of thoughts zoomed through her head. _Who was that woman tonight?_ _Has she always been this amazing? Have I really been so blind this whole time? I just wish she knew how I felt. I wish I knew how_ ** _I_** _felt. I wish she knew I didn't hate her, that I'd never intentionally hurt her. But she hates me, deep down; she has for years, so it'll never matter._

Sleep was far off, if ever.

Desperately needing to get these thoughts off her chest, she took a chance and murmured in the dark. "I remember you being so _hard_. Harder than anyone I'd ever met." She paused, taking a deep breath. "You were so lonely, but you kept everyone at arm's length."

The breathing of her bedmate never changed, so Emma soldiered on, emboldened by the protection of the dark room. "There were times I'd look at you, with this _sadness_ in your eyes." She continued. "When we were younger, you pushed me away, for reasons I didn't understand until tonight. I just never knew how to push you back."

Regina twisted a bit in her sleep, gently pushing her feet between Emma's legs. Cold as ice. _Go figure_ . She sighed, welcoming the contact, and shifted her body back as subtly as she possibly could before she knew she would come into contact with _too much_ of Regina.

When it felt like every hair on her body began to stand on end, she knew she was as close as she could come without actually touching her. Because she had touched her earlier, and it was _delicious_. She'd tasted her skin and slid her hands up Regina's thighs under her dress, and seen her perfect body, lace and all, what felt like hours ago. And it all just made everything foggy and bogged down with desire. Right in that moment, anything more that little space between them, even in thought, was entirely too overwhelming.

With a soft sigh, Regina seemed to be drawn closer in her sleep; the ankle she had just pushed through her legs hooked gently around Emma's own. She gulped, the feeling of Regina's bare skin on hers causing her heart to race as much as the words that were pouring out of her mouth.

 _It's_ **_just_ ** _Regina_ , she thought to herself repeatedly, like a silent mantra, like a prayer. _And those are just her legs. Her soft, bare legs, all tangled up with mine..._

 _Dammit_ , she scolded herself, shaking her head softly against the fluffed pillow. _It's just Regina, it's just Regina, it's just Regina._

A sudden image of soft blonde hair and soulful, familiar brown eyes popped into her head, making her smile as she collected her thoughts once more. "The second you saw Leila you were just an absolute pile of goo. So warm, so maternal, so much like yourself — the you I'd always imagined you'd be, that it made my heart hurt. I longed for _that_ Regina. I just...I can't understand how _that_ Regina, how _tonight's_ Regina, could hate me so much."

Emma looked out the hotel room window longingly. She wouldn't ordinarily talk (or confess) this much, especially not with only herself for company, listening; she just wished she could tell her these things when she was awake. She wished she could tell her these things when she was sober. Maybe someday. Maybe.

A few moments passed while Emma focused on Regina's even breathing and her mind drifted to how domestic this all felt. Like a normal evening, sleeping next to a beautiful woman. It's not like she'd never envisioned herself with a woman, really. There was that whole...thing...with Ruby. But this was different. Regina was different.

Ruby was the kind of girl you have your college lesbian phase with, and then move on with the friendship intact. Regina was the kind of woman you chose to be with for the long haul; the woman you shared a home with; the woman you _married_. Regina was the kind of woman you fought with, and for, everyday, but loved so fiercely nothing else in the world mattered.

"I don't... _hate_ you." Regina paused, exhaling softly with the whispered confession of her own. "You just always seemed to prefer the negative attention."

Emma froze. She'd been awake the whole time? She rolled her eyes at herself, her bravado completely deflated. _Perfect_.

"When we were younger, all I'd ever hoped was that you'd see me. That'd you'd choose me. But you never did."

Emma shuffled to turn over to face her, but Regina stiffened, which halted Emma's movement, keeping her still.

"And then after we finished school, when the hatred came, so did you. You'd seek me out just to argue with me, just to make me angry. But you always came to _my_ door."

"Regina...I," Emma tried to interrupt, turned further over one shoulder to bring herself closer.

She reached behind her body to place a hand firmly on Emma's hip. "Please don't."

And although that simple touch felt to Emma like she was on fire, neither of them moved, completely still, not wanting to say anything more. As the room filled with tension, they both knew someone would break the silence; that someone had to. They knew it would never happen again, this openness. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was Leila. For whatever reason, they both knew it may be their only chance to make it right.

Regina retracted her hand when she felt sure that Emma would remain still, and cradled it protectively against her chest. "When we went to college, I thought for sure you'd notice me, living in the same place. I could have lived anywhere, but when Tink asked me to move into that house with the three of you, I thought...well, how could you _not_ finally notice me if I was just upstairs?” She shook her head, shaking the pillow underneath slightly. “I realize now how juvenile it all was.Thinking I was in love with you."

Emma blinked. There was that word again. And it was deliberate this time, and she wasn't going to let her escape it. "You...you're in love with me?"

Regina sighed, frustrated. "Was. I _was_ in love with you. When we were teenagers. I thought you’d learned how to listen by now." They both knew there was a hint of falsehood there, but Emma decided it wasn't worth pushing her on the subject.

"You did notice me once, on campus. Or at least...I thought you did. You smiled at me and your eyes lit up and you waved. And even though we lived in the _same_ house, and we had all the same old friends we've always shared, it felt like you actually _saw_ me for the first time. And then _she_ came from behind me and you leaned over and kissed her and then looked at me and smirked and cocked an eyebrow, and it all felt so intentional. It was the first time I'd ever felt so rejected by someone other than my mother."

Emma's mouth opened and closed softly in surprise. It was a simple moment, one that she couldn't even remember, but it had obviously made an impact on Regina. "I didn't know, Regina. I was just a kid. A stupid, selfish, jerk of a kid. If I had known..."

As her suggestion trailed off significantly, Regina scoffed. "What? We'd have lived happily ever after?"

Emma blanched; this was not going the way she'd hoped it would. It felt like taking a million steps back after their few forward. _Why couldn't she just have been asleep? Why'd I have to open my mouth and ruin everything?_

Regina continued, emboldened by the quiet cover of darkness. She'd waited years to say these things, and however much it hurt her to do so, she knew that the goodness of the evening would have to have an inevitable downfall. Just like they always seemed to. Maybe _that_ was their destiny. "We would _never_ have worked. I would have confessed my love for you and you would have laughed in my face. Or worse, told everyone in the entire school about how the weird outcast told you she loved you. How _pathetic._ "

"No, I would _never_ have..." She frowned, shaking her head softly in disgust with herself. It wasn't her right to speak right now. To offer a rebuttal when Regina _was_ right. Emma had been so concerned with building a fantastic life away from her family, one where the opinion of her friends _and Ruby_ were more important than just about anything. She _may_ have done such a horrible thing under the right circumstances. And she hated herself for it.

Several quiet moments passed, and Emma thought perhaps she’d fallen asleep until she heard the soft, resigned tone of her voice pick up once more.

"I moved back home to get away from you. I had offers in Boston after law school, but I assumed you'd stay there after you graduated. I had no idea you'd move back to Storybrooke."

Emma glanced over her shoulder at Regina's stiff posture. "Yeah, well, I had a kid. I didn't want him growing up in the city."

"I know you had a baby, Emma. It hurt me to see the two of you. To _be_ right there all the time. To see him grow up right in front of my eyes."

Emma turned slightly and flipped onto her back, unsure of what to say.

"How did me having a baby hurt you, Regina? That's not fair."

"It hurt because I had to give _my_ baby away.” She explained, “Because if I hadn't, god knows what my mother would have done..."

Emma paused. She hadn't quite thought of it that way. "Oh."

“I lived there with you. In that house. I held your baby when he cried. I never even held my _own_ baby, Emma, not once. How could I possibly live that way?” A hardened edge overtook Regina's voice as it dropped angrily. “So I moved away, thinking I could escape you and your little boy, painfully aware how ridiculous it all was. Hating myself for being jealous. Hating myself for giving Leila up. Hating myself for hating you. Hating myself for being...me. I was so full of hatred."

Emma's heart flinched. She wasn't sure what made Regina open up like this, but she wished she would have known all this sooner. Maybe things could have been completely different.

"I wish things had been different. I wish I could have seen what was right in front of me. You deserved - _deserve_ \- so much better."

"Yes, well, if I'd lived my entire life wallowing over what I _deserved_ , I'd have ended up a pathetic excuse for a person, with or without my child, and that just would not do. I gave her up for her best shot and I made myself the best version I could muster in case she found me one day."

"And she did, and you're _incredible._ She sees it too."

Regina smiled, blushing at the compliment. But it quickly dropped when she realized what tonight meant. It meant that Emma would _pursue_ things, pursue her, in a way that she would never be able to refuse. _A family with Emma Swan...too enticing. I could never say no._

But there was still her mother. And _Robin._

Choosing to love people came with too much risk. And Leila was already a _huge_ risk on her own. The only way to protect Leila and Emma and - _oh God_ \- little Henry- was to hide Leila and to run as fast and as far away from her as she possibly could.

Regina allowed a silent tear to streak down her cheek. This was the last thing she wanted to do, and it killed her inside that she had to do it. She closed her eyes in preparation for what she was about to say.

"Emma," she paused, making sure the woman was listening completely. "all this... _tonight_ , I don't know how productive it was," She inhaled deeply, fighting back more tears as the decision ripped through her and she felt the pain of the inevitable loss everywhere in her body. "I don't want to give you ideas of a future or of anything other than a _fairytale_ of a few hours at a hotel bar."

Emma's head turned quickly to face her at the admission. She wasn't sure how the change in the air between them had happened, but the lack of warmth brought back memories that she didn't want to relive. Of yelling and hatred. Of _ignorance_. She suddenly felt like she was falling with nothing to catch her. She panicked. "No, you can't...I don't regret it, Regina. I've never _felt_ so much with someone before. I won't forget that."

"Oh, Emma. Get some alcohol in me and I can become _anyone_ your heart desires. Tonight meant..." Regina sighed, trying desperately to lie to Emma, to herself. It'd make the next day easier if it had all been a drunken mistake.

"Everything. It _is_ everything. Don't you dare try to lie and say otherwise."

"Emma."

"No, Regina." Emma insisted. "There's something between us, and we both know it. _You_ held onto this for all these years and now, I... _feel_ _it_ so much. I can't just pretend I don't, not after seeing the real you and knowing all that I do."

"Emma, you know _nothing_ about me. And while tonight was...exactly what I'd always dreamed it would be, _we_ do not exist. But Leila very much does, and she is _everything_."

"I won't abandon either of you."

"I didn't say you...Emma, _please,_ don't make this any harder." Placing her hand on the bed, making it dip just slightly, Regina moved into a sitting position, making herself a little more comfortable. They obviously wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, still feeling a bit of the alcohol fuzzing behind them. As much as she wanted Emma Swan in every facet of her life, as much as she wanted to crawl into a hole with her pain and never come out, she now had Leila to think of. She couldn't just get up and move like before. This was real, and for whatever reason, Emma was tangled up in _her_ mess this time.

She cleared her throat, coming to a firm resolution within herself that she could no longer be selfish. Everything that they had experienced tonight meant nothing for the road ahead. "Whatever did or was happening between us tonight cannot leave this hotel."

"But," Emma argued, but Regina was quick to cut her off, their bodies angled into one another.

"No."

"You can't just make that kind of decision on your own. _I'm_ here too."

It was a fair point, and Regina couldn't quite argue with it. She sighed, resigned. "I know you are. I know you want to stay and become all these things to us, but you just...can't. I'm sorry."

"This is bullshit, I-" Emma began defensively, but Regina once again interrupted before something wonderful and convincing could spill from her mouth and ruin her resolve. She gave her a hard, firm glare.

"Whether you stay," she looked down at Emma's hands as they twisted in the blanket, trying to ground herself in her confusion, and Regina broke a little more inside. She decided to give her an ounce of compassion and reached to tangle their fingers together. "Or you decide to leave, I'll understand."

"I'm not going to-"

"Regardless," Regina insisted, "we absolutely cannot fight like we've done in the past. Leila must be made our priority from now on. It's what she deserves."

Emma blanched, but then nodded softly with a sigh. Regina _was_ right. She'd been thinking that earlier. Their fighting had to stop. They could hate or _not_ hate each other as much as they wanted in private, but the constant bickering was damaging and unfair. And while she was willing to allow Regina to pretend what happened tonight didn't, she certainly had no intention to drop it forever.

In order to let Regina keep some semblance of peace and control within herself, Emma decided to follow her lead. "I know. No more playing peacekeeper. She's the kid. We're the adults." But there was one thing on which she wanted Regina to be abundantly clear: she wasn't going anywhere. She wasn't leaving _either_ of them. "I may not be her mother," she chanced a glance at Regina, just to make sure she could continue, pleased to see there had been no flinch or glare, just soft understanding, "but I want to be there for her, for you both."

Regina shrugged one shoulder in resignation. She didn't _want_ Emma to leave, this was just what felt the easiest. And if time had taught her anything, easy would never be something she had in her life. She smiled, though, because even if it was messy now, she knew that Emma wouldn't purposefully hurt her again, and that came with a sense of relief in and of itself. "I don't know why your name is on her birth certificate. I never meant for any of this to happen."

"But it is, Regina. Whether it was a mistake or not, that doesn't matter..."

"I know."

Regina finally smiled at her, a soft reprieve within such a serious discourse. "Leila has been without _real_ parents her entire life, and for whatever reason, the courts seem to think you're fit for the job. I expect you to follow through," she paused, unsure if she should continue, "and I'd like to do this with you, or at least try. She seems to feel safe with you. She should have that with someone."

Emma watched as Regina's head dropped in sadness and immediately wanted to fix it, fix _her_. "She deserves to feel safe and wanted. And once she feels those things, all the other stuff will lessen. She needs stability and routine. She won't stay angry forever, Regina."

"If she has inherited _any_ of my weakness, she'll probably _never_ be able to forgive me. Sometimes all we have left to ground us are old wounds." She looked directly into Emma's eyes, conveying to her that  her words definitely held a double meaning. "But I'm prepared to love her anyway."

"So am I."

Regina's breath caught in her throat a little at Emma's intense stare, and she frowned. She was quickly becoming ready for this night to end. They would just keep going in circles because Emma wanted to be _noble_ , but Regina just wanted to rip the proverbial bandaid off and start to grieve the loss of Emma as quickly as she could.

 

\--------

 

They laid there in silence for a while, each trying to work through the thoughts and feelings that were suddenly so _present_ for both of them. Emma was floundering. She didn't know how to convey what she wanted without receiving a complete dismissal from the brunette. She _wanted_ to be there, for them both. She didn't like that she had to pretend it was only about Leila. But if that was the only way she got to have Regina too, she would do just about anything Regina needed.

She finally broke their silence. "Look, I will be as involved as you want me to be, it's your call."

"I appreciate that."

"And don't worry, I promise I'll step back so you can get to know her without my hovering," she turned to look at Regina. "I know you hate that."

Regina laughed, full and strong. She _did_ hate that. She wasn't sure how Emma knew it, but it was true; she hated being fussed over, hated being watched and policed, but she appreciated the sentiment anyway.

"I'm sure you've always dreamed of getting this time with her."

Emma turned onto her side, gently tucking her left hand under her head, propping herself up to look at Regina. She was ashamed to admit that she'd never really looked at the woman before, studied her, appreciated her beauty. Of course she was beautiful, anybody with eyes could see that, but she had never noticed how many freckles were scattered across her shoulders, or how she tucked her hair behind her ears when she was nervous. How she stretched the oversized t-shirt she was wearing over her knees as if trying to make herself smaller. She'd known her for years, so how could this be the first time she really saw her? How could she have been so blind?

"I...I have," Regina admitted, turning her head down to rest her cheek on her knee, smiling gently in response to Emma's offer. Regina sighed, not sure whether admitting this fault would be worth the possible ridicule, but at this point her heart was already bared. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

Never in a million years would she have admitted that. To anyone. But she felt safe here, with Emma; she felt like she had someone to fight by her side, not against her. She fidgeted slightly, letting out a deep breath and closed her eyes briefly before returning Emma's gaze. "You're already a mother, and I've never done more than write little notes to her on her birthday. If you want to be in her life, if you want to be in mine, then be here. But you can't do this halfway with me. Or with Leila."

“I know I treated you like you were invisible before, popping in and out of your life and letting you give me things without giving anything back, and I'm _sorry_." She choked on her next words. "I don't want halfway, I don't want to do to Leila what I did to you. I’m _here_. And not just because a mishap with a birth certificate says I have to be.”

Regina visibly relaxed, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She gently reached over and laced their fingers together once again, giving a brief squeeze and then stroked the pad of her thumb across the inside of Emma’s wrist.

Emma, inspired by the intimacy of the action, tugged Regina down from her position above her so that they faced one another, their bodies aligning along the bed into a mirror image as Emma tugged the warm blanket across them both.

Her face was so soft, looking more relaxed than she'd seen her in ages. Her eyes sharp but hazy. Her lips so full and inviting, even without her usual red lipstick. For just a fraction of a second, Emma caught Regina as she looked down to her lips and her stomach dropped. The air in the room became warm, too warm, and it was as if the universe was daring them to make a move once again.

Yet, neither made that move. It wasn't that Emma was afraid. It was more that she was worried. Worried that she'd hurt Regina all over again. And after learning that she'd broken her heart many years before, she couldn't do it again. But, at that moment, she undoubtedly wanted that smile and that skin and those _eyes_ and that heart, bare and open and fiercely afraid. In the potentially forever kind of way. And it wasn't as scary as she thought it would be.

Snuggling a little more into her pillow, shifting just a bit to be closer to Regina, to get into her personal space she could only think of one thing to say. Probably the only thing she could say to make Regina feel something. To let her know she was serious.

Emma smiled softly, eyes radiant, breathing controlled. She wanted Regina to know that she meant it; that it wasn't a trick. She reached out and stroked under Regina's cheekbone, pushing the hair gently behind her ear. A cliché gesture, she was sure of it. But her skin just looked so soft and her eyes looked so innocent, she felt drawn to touch it. She needed the contact, even if just in the slightest way.

Regina's face didn't change, yet her eyes almost fluttered closed at the contact. She gulped, catching the already mesmerized gaze Emma had given her, now briefly going to her throat with the subtle way it moved. As Emma went to open her mouth, nothing came out. She swallowed as she felt a blush creep onto her face. _What is wrong with you?_ She cleared her throat and tried again, reaching out with the rest of her fingers to caress the side of her face to her chin, gently drawing Regina's astonished eyes back to lock with her own when she attempted to turn away from Emma's earnest gaze.

"I see you now."

Regina let out a tiny gasp as her stomach flipped in the most delicious of ways. She'd expected some grand gesture from Emma. The moment called for it, even though she'd tried desperately to stop whatever was happening between them, but she hadn't expected those four little words. She also hadn't anticipated how her body would respond to them, betraying her resolution. She no longer felt like the love-sick puppy she had throughout her adolescence; she felt like an equal, like maybe Emma could share the feelings that Regina had held onto all these years.

She inhaled a deep breath, edging closer to Emma so that the tips of their noses brushed lightly. "You do?"

Emma smiled at her, smiled as if she was the only woman in the world. And in a way, she undoubtedly was. She nodded slowly, not wanting to push her too far. She'd been brave at the bar, brushed her lips across the span of her neck and jaw with such reverence. She'd been brave when Regina had asked her what she wanted and then had fallen asleep, but this moment was different.

There was an electricity between them; there always had been. Even if Regina had been the only one to admit it for so long.

"Regina," Emma breathed, nearly a whisper, a soft sigh that broke against Regina's lips, her chest heaving and her eyes soft and pleading.

Hearing her name erased any doubts from her mind about who Emma had become. No longer the flippant sorority girl who borrowed Regina's lecture notes endlessly, yet never invited her to any of the parties she threw right downstairs. No longer the vapid teenager pretending not to see Regina when they crossed paths between classes. But the grown woman, the grown _beautiful_ woman who lay open before her with Regina's heart bared between them, practically begging Regina to allow her to hold it.

Though the "I see you" melted her heart, her name barely escaping Emma's lips was enough to ignite a fire deep inside of her. The moment Regina captured Emma's lips, pressing into her mouth greedily, taking every kiss for herself, Regina knew this was a feeling she could never let go. All the years she'd dreamed about this feeling, dreamed about whether they'd fit together. Now she had her answer; they did, and so beautifully. This was right. This was perfection. This was all she had ever wanted.

This was something she could _never_ have again.

They shared a few more kisses, Regina allowing herself to get lost in the moment, because the finality of her decision would pick up the moment they exited the room. She'd waited _years_ for this kind of a night, and here Emma was, handing it to her on a silver platter. She couldn't say no, couldn't push her away. She'd give in, _just one more time._

Lying on their backs, Regina turned her head to face to Emma, absentmindedly twisting a curl through her fingertips. "What are we going to do about Leila tomorrow?"

Emma stilled, hoping that the second kiss from Regina and the words she'd shared with her had meant _enough_. Enough that she wouldn't run away or wouldn't ruin something that had the potential to be amazing. "I'm sure she'll find us, and if not, we'll find her, I guess."

Regina chuckled a little. "She seems to be better at the former, and I seem to be terrible at the latter."

"She has your info, once she gets over herself she'll come back. She just needed some space."

"Yes, I suppose you're right."

Emma took a deep breath. She did have another question. She knew it might not be her right to ask, but she had to anyway. Leila would be the easy part, getting her to Storybrooke would be easy too, but what happens after that, that's what could get complicated. She decided to chance it. "What are you going to do about Robin?"

And there it was: the never again.

Regina couldn't believe that Emma had the audacity to ask a question like that and scoffed accordingly. She was an idiot for kissing her a second time. She knew it would be too good to be true.

Regina knew this would be the final blow. The thing that would hurt Emma the most, the thing that would give Regina the ammunition she needed in order to protect the blonde from a life she wasn't equipped to deal with. She continued, hardening herself to the inevitable backlash she was about to receive. "I tell him that I have a sixteen year old daughter and we continue on with our plans to marry...eventually, when the time is right and things with Leila have settled down."

Emma's eyes flashed, her brow furrowing in confusion. She was _angry._ And when Emma Swan was angry, she lashed out. "I don't understand. What was tonight to you, exactly?"

Regina inhaled sharply, afraid that Emma thought she'd been played or lying or indulging in a childhood fantasy for her own pleasure. She repeated Emma's earlier sentiments, hoping that she'd connect it and perhaps not be so angry, even if this made her want to walk away. "Everything. Tonight was _everything_ , Emma."

The sudden, hot tears welling up in Emma's eyes betrayed the calm tone she forced into her voice. "I wasted so many years being an idiot... I...I never even knew! And after tonight I thought maybe we'd get our chance. To...at least try for _something_. I mean, we have a kid together now. That has to count — it just has to."

Regina released a haggard breath. "Oh, Emma. We share _custody_ of a teenager. We didn't conceive her together. As much as — as picturesque as that might have been at one time, it just...isn't anymore. I don't mean that to hurt you, it's just fact."

Emma nodded yet said nothing in response, rolling away from the warmth of Regina's closeness for the first time in hours.

Panicking at the loss of comfort, the loss of stability, Regina tried desperately to get Emma to understand. "You have to realize how my life works, Emma. My marriage to Robin was arranged for me when I was twenty-three years old. I had no say." Before she could be interrupted she continued. "I _have_ no say. Don't you understand that? I'm a prisoner. A pawn."

"You're an adult, Regina. A Mayor. A mother. And the Regina I just spent the night with is no one's pawn." Emma scoffed. She turned away onto her other side in an attempt to hide the stinging tears. She needed a little distance. Emma Swan did _not_ cry. "How can you marry him? I mean, you _kissed_ me. Twice. _Connected_ with me. Isn't there some part of you that you're throwing away for him?"

Regina looked at her in confusion, "Are you...referring to my sexuality? That is none of your business."

"Isn't it? Just a little?"

"Need I remind you that you were equally enthusiastic? I seem to remember you having a son, and that didn't just happen because of magic. There are parts of ourselves we turn away from at times out of necessity. I suppose this is no different."

"I didn't just have a baby and then decide I wasn't attracted to women, Regina. Getting pregnant was a drunken accident. A happy one. But a drunken one. Graham and I...you know what? No. You like to throw Ruby in my face every chance you get, she wasn't just a fling for me. She was, _is_ a very real part of my life. I'm not hiding anything about myself and I never have."

"I throw Ruby in your face so often because it should have been me!” Regina refuted indignantly. A white hot rage burned behind her eyes as sudden tears threatened to spill over. This was one button Emma would never be able to push without sparking feelings of rejection deep inside of Regina. “She got what I'd spent my whole adolescence hating myself for desiring, she _left you_ , and then you somehow proceeded to spend the rest of your adult lives, _to this day_ , playing house together with your son. She stands for everything I'll never have."

They needed space. Regina had pressed herself into Emma’s side, desperately clinging to her as though she could hold their connection together with her bare hands. But now, she needed to protect herself, the same way she always had. She shuffled away, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and straightening her spine, lengthening her body to feel the calming effect as a storm of unbridled emotion surged through her. It was as though simply mentioning Ruby made little seeds of insecurity blossom in Regina’s chest, and she hated that feeling.

"Regina, I'm right here! We can have a fresh start. We can do this the right way. I'm right here..." Emma reached out to touch her arm, and when Regina pulled away, she knew that the night was over and withdrew her only remaining tether to what they had shared.

"I have a long drive tomorrow with a teenager who's going to be exceptionally angry with me for dragging her to a hometown she's never known, to live with a woman who didn't love her enough to keep her, in a town full of memories she'll never know. I think it's time to get a few hours of sleep."

The case was undoubtedly closed now. With a sharp pang of sadness, Emma watched as she settled on the very edge of the bed once more, Regina’s back to her. She wanted desperately to reach across the space between them and comb her fingers through Regina’s silky hair, revealing the crevice between her shoulder and neck that she’d found fit against her lips perfectly.

She wanted more of what they’d had for the last several hours. She wanted to give lingering caresses down Regina’s thighs as she kissed her thoroughly. She wanted to feel the trembling tips of Regina’s fingers and they dipped under her shirt to rake over her stomach. She craved the feeling of soft laughter pouring into her mouth between kisses, the murmurs of her name, the fuzzy feeling in her head that she knew had absolutely nothing to do with the alcohol. She wanted Regina. It was that simple.

Except that it wasn’t, really. _Simple_. And with them, it never would be.

After some time and several attempts to shut her brain down (if only to escape the way it kept replaying the feeling of Regina’s hands on her,) she succumbed to sleep, lulled into a sense of security by the soft, even breathing of her bedmate.

 

\--------

 

The brightest rays of morning broke through the window much earlier than Regina would have liked, but other than interrupting her slumber, she hardly even noticed them. The pounding of her head was nothing compared with the aching of her heart. Arching her back, she stretched her arms above her head and twisted languidly until she had turned over completely to face Emma, and something in her chest lurched at the sight of her sleeping so peacefully.

She had always thought of Emma as such a beautiful paradox. Her light curls cascaded over her shoulders in a way that made her somehow look both innocent and strikingly beautiful. She looked so sweet like this, and yet would inevitably wake soon with attitude in full force. She snored so softly through her nose that she had to lean closer to even hear it, and Regina smiled at the way her fingers twisted in the pillowcase in her sleep.

She had never thought of Robin’s snoring as endearing. She had smacked him with pillows and sent him into a guest room for the rest of the night on more occasions than she could count.

Regina rolled her eyes and sighed. She really needed to stop comparing them.

Glaring red numbers on the hotel alarm clock reminded her that soon, her daughter would need to be collected and she could bring her home to stay. About this, at least, she could genuinely smile. Pointedly choosing not to look at Emma again (for she surely would not have the strength to leave this bed if she did so,) she gently rolled to the edge of the mattress and slid out from under the blanket so as not to disturb the woman next to her.

The soft shirt slid from her shoulders so easily, and Regina briefly contemplated folding it gently and tucking it away to bring home with her. Emma wouldn’t miss it, right? Certainly her bar was overflowing with unused, tacky merchandise. But she thought better of it at the idea of having to explain her sudden nighttime wardrobe change to Robin and, instead, left it draped across her pillow on the bed. The only reminder she’d have of this night, she supposed, would be the twinge of regret she felt every time she saw Emma.

Though she tried to draw out every action, it took her very little time to get dressed in the outfit she’d arrived in yesterday and to gather her few loose items (an unused room key, crimson lipstick missing its cap, and cell phone with depleting battery) and return them to her purse. _There_ , she thought as she slid each foot routinely into her heels, _now go home with your daughter and live your life._

But, of course, she couldn’t help herself. She turned and looked over her shoulder as she placed one hand on the door handle; when she saw Emma’s back still to her, moving up and down evenly as she breathed deeply — it was as though her body was propelled toward her before Regina could give it permission to move.

Within moments, she was standing next to the bed, the ends of Emma’s hair moving softly through her fingers as they traveled up her side, moving the wispy curls near the line of her hair out of the way as she leaned down to press a soft, lingering kiss on her temple.

She knew Emma would wake. There was no way she would have slept through the sudden physical contact, but Regina could not have prepared for the way, within moments, Emma awoke suddenly, throwing her arms around her neck while tugging Regina to meet her in a heart-wrenching kiss that felt definitively like goodbye.

Despite never wanting this last kiss to end, after as many moments as she could stand without her heart breaking further, Regina reluctantly pulled away, grasped Emma’s hands within her own, and clasped them tightly. She rested their joined hands on the edge of the mattress as Emma smiled sadly. Regina knelt on the ground next to the bed and disentangled their hands briefly to place a kiss on each of Emma’s palms.

Not for the first time in the last few hours, Emma nearly choked over her words. “Please don’t go.”

Regina finally let out one tiny sob. “Oh, Emma,” she whispered, and although she felt her mind select the three words that had been on the tip of her tongue all night (and, truthfully, for the last sixteen years) her mouth instead betrayed her with, “I don’t have a choice.”

 

\--------

 

To her surprise, when Regina arrived in the hotel lobby from the elevator, not far from the door waited Leila. She had expected to spend the morning tracking her down at one of the addresses the social worker had given her yesterday after Leila took off. They would need to get her a phone as soon as they were settled in Storybrooke, she realized.

Yet there she was, unruly blonde hair stuffed under a knitted hat, looking very much like a younger, hardened Regina Mills.

Regina felt her heart skip a beat. This was her baby, and she was finally taking her home.

It didn’t take long for Regina to check out and pay for her room, and then she swiftly made her way over to where Leila was shuffling anxiously from one foot to the other.

“Hello,” she breathed as she slowly came to a stop in front of the girl. “I didn’t expect you to be here. I thought I would need to come and find you.”

Leila shrugged, gave her a tired smile, and adjusted the strap of her bag slung over one shoulder. “It generally works better for me if I come to find you instead.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Regina nodded, her smile growing brighter. “Are you ready to go?”

“Sure.” She glanced suddenly over Regina’s shoulder, searching the rest of the hotel lobby. “But don’t we need to wait for Emma?”

“Oh, no,” Regina answered, shaking her head vehemently. “Emma and I didn’t come here together. She has some other plans while she’s here in the city, so we’ll see her back in Storybrooke in a few days and we can come up with a plan together.”

She shrugged once more, accepting this answer, and then turned to the door, gesturing for Regina to follow her. “Okay, well... \then let’s go, I guess.”

As Regina quietly stepped forward and wrapped her arm around Leila’s shoulders, the elevator doors across the lobby behind them slid open, and out tumbled a disheveled but earnest Emma Swan. Emma’s heart leapt into her throat at the sight of the two of them, ready to call out after Regina. She had to go after her. After both of them.

A sudden vibration in her back pocket distracted her as she fished the phone out of her jeans, grinning automatically at the sight of the goofy picture of the two of them accompanying Henry Swan’s contact information. Her thumb hesitated over the option to ignore the call; she looked up, and swore under her breath. The moment she had stopped to investigate, the Mills women had stepped together through the revolving door and out into the sunlight.

Emma’s shoulders sagged as she answered on the last ring. “Hey, kid! I’m really excited to see you today. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there yesterday, but I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

As he jabbered excitedly about everything he wanted to do together, she spun on her heel and pressed the button for the elevator to return to her room and collect her things. She was going to spend some time with her adorable son, prepare him for the new presence of Leila in their lives when he returned to Storybrooke, and then she was going to make Regina Mills fall madly in love with her.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Leila had come to expect a lot of things pertaining to the word _mother_. She'd read things in books or seen things in television shows, even experienced some herself through various foster moms. Throughout her life, she developed a certain image of what she thought hers might be like: gentle, warm, kind...simple. Regina Mills, as it turned out, was anything but.

She was gentle, of course, but it seemed that she was only gentle with Leila. She had a desperate fierceness about her with everyone else, one that she almost envied. She could turn herself off completely with no notice whatsoever. It was the emotional whiplash that made the woman so unpredictable.

But simple? She was never simple. In fact, she seemed to be the exact opposite. Her mother was incredibly complex. Normally, she could read people and instantly knew more about them than they knew about themselves, it had served her well for life in temporary environments; she had to adapt quickly. She was a human lie detector. But Regina had layers and layers of pain, Leila could see them flash across her eyes with every word she spoke, especially to Leila and to Emma.

Regina's entire being seemed rooted in her own insecurities. Leila could feel it in waves whenever she looked at her, feel it when Leila threw barbs in her direction, and for someone so strong and so resilient, Regina being insecure about her entire existence made her heart twinge just a little.

She was warm in the moments when they were close, or when she spoke earnestly of her feelings, but so, so cold to everything else around her. There was also a bravado about her; she knew what she brought to the table and wasn't about to let anyone forget it. Perhaps this was from a life of privilege and money, but she seemed insecure about both of those things as well. She _loathed_ her wealth, even though she had adapted to using it to separate herself from others. Not out of superiority, but out of survival.

Leila found herself simply observing Regina as they made their exit from the large, impressive hotel. Though she appeared to be exhausted, she was otherwise far more put together than any woman Leila could have imagined in her mind's eye when she'd thought of her mother. The sleek, designer dress paired with impossibly high heels made her easily the most put-together person in the lobby, even in day-old clothes.

So, she supposed, she shouldn't have been surprised that, upon exiting the hotel, Regina graciously accepted the keys to her stunning black Porsche from the nervous valet. And who _wouldn’t_ be nervous?

Of course, it was obvious that she was wealthy based solely on the mansion Emma had pointed out on Leila's first trip to Storybrooke, and yet for some reason, Leila still expected her to choose a more... _practical_ vehicle.

Regina strode around to the driver's side, stopping and looking up when she realized Leila wasn't walking towards the car with her. "It's unlocked, dear."

Leila hesitantly stepped forward and placed her hand on the door handle; as soon as Regina saw her move to get in, she smiled and smoothly slid into the driver's seat, pulling her door closed behind her with a soft click.

"Ow!" Leila yelped in surprise, shuffling around from one side to the other to dislodge the corner of the item she hadn't seen when she first sat. She extracted the neatly wrapped gift and held it gingerly in her lap, wincing at Regina apologetically. “Sorry.”

"You're fine." Regina assured, sparing a glance at the gift. "That's yours, actually. A gift. For your birthday. I meant to give it to you after the hearing, it just didn't seem like the right time. I just wanted to give you...something. You don't even have to open it if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Oh," she murmured quietly, turning the package over and over in her hands. "That's...thank you. I haven't been given many birthday presents."

Regina cringed only slightly; she would have to learn not to react physically to statements like that. Her expression, however, smoothed before Leila could see it. She smiled, turning away briefly so she could merge onto the interstate. “You’re welcome.”

Leila tucked the wrapped gift carefully into the backpack at her feet, and immediately regretted it as she no longer quite knew what to do with her hands. “So...”

“I’m surprised you’re not more angry with me,” Regina blurted out in a rush of nervous words, glancing slightly to her right for Leila’s reaction. The girl shrugged, looking away and out of the window at nothing but the blur of green as they sped past the line of trees along the highway. Both were met with silence for a few moments, neither sure who should speak first, Regina, too nervous at what the blonde might say, Leila too annoyed she was being asked to decipher how she felt so early in the morning.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been told I have to move somewhere I don’t want to. I _was_ pretty mad at you, you _and_ Emma, but...I don’t know. When I woke up this morning, I decided it could be a lot worse. I mean, Storybrooke seemed nice enough, and you don’t seem like a murderous psychopath or anything, so I figure I’ll be alright.”

A little shudder rippled through Regina at her explanation. “I assure you I’m not a psychopath, murderous or otherwise.”

Leila grinned slightly, reaching across to fiddle with the radio station and changing it too rapidly for Regina to decide if she knew any of the songs. “It was a joke, but thanks for the affirmation.”

Regina hesitated, not entirely sure how to let conversation continue naturally. What could she say to someone, a someone she had _created,_ about whom she knew practically nothing? Her hands gripped the steering wheel a little harder as it all started to really sink in. Her child, who she hadn’t seen in sixteen years, was sitting in the passenger seat of her car on a journey to come and live with her, be _parented_ by her for the foreseeable future. It was all very surreal.

“So,” Leila announced, glancing around the interior of the car before her eyes landed on Regina’s profile. “This car is probably worth more than my life. Super fancy. I like it.”

Regina cleared her throat. “Yes, well, it was...a gift from my future father-in-law.”

“Gift” was a loose term for what the car had meant. She’d spent months deciding what her very first vehicle would be and did as much research about what would be the perfect fit for her as she could stomach. She finally decided on a sleek, new Volvo that she felt was safe,got decent gas milage, and yet also looked sexy. She’d happily driven it everywhere in those first days after finishing law school, showing it off excitedly to Robin at a picnic his parents were hosting for several of their closest friends (business associates, but it was easier to stomach being around them if she allowed the façade to hold up.)

Before the end of the picnic, Robin’s father snuck up behind her while she was refreshing her drink, pressing a hand insistently against the small of her back as the other dropped a singular, impressive key into her other empty hand.

“ _I’ve taken care of your recent purchase_ ,” he’d murmured into her ear, and she felt her stomach drop like cement to her feet. “ _This is a much more suitable vehicle for the object of my son’s affection._ "

And though she looked for it everywhere, her beautiful foray into adulthood was no longer at that picnic. In its stead, she found a luxury vehicle very similar to the one currently carrying them home to Storybrooke. He had replaced it with this model just last year, insisting that she must be outfitted with the very best.

It made her sick. _Simply a trophy wife._

“Well, _that’s_ a generous gift,” Leila laughed. “Future father-in-law, huh? So you’re getting married.”

She honestly had no idea how to feel about it. Not only did she have two moms, but now she was getting a stepfather as well? She had overheard Emma mention something about a guy the first day she’d met both of them, during their argument in Regina’s office, but she secretly hoped it was a _past_ boyfriend and that she didn't have to deal with someone else trying to parent her. She didn't envy Regina, though. It was probably going to be a little difficult to explain going to Boston for a day and coming home with a teenager.

“Yes, his name is Robin. Robin Loxley.” She amended, not sure why she felt the need to add his last name. Leila wouldn’t know the difference. “He’s been away for several days ‘in the elements’ as he calls it, on a camping trip with his fraternity brothers.” _Merry Men indeed._

“Ew.” Leila wrinkled her nose. Camping? Elements? Fraternity brothers? She was already a little unsure about this guy and now _this_? He definitely had questionable taste in vacation destinations. But if Regina liked him enough to marry him, she supposed she would need to at least give him a chance. She was being given one herself, right?

Regina nodded. "Indeed."

Pressing a little more firmly on the accelerator and setting an acceptable cruising speed, they both settled into a moderately more comfortable silence as the miles flew behind them. Leila occasionally sang along to the radio, and Regina gave her very best effort not to laugh at the way she stumbled over each and every lyric. Sometimes, they mocked the British gentleman of the GPS as his voice broke through the music to give them directions, finding at least that they could use him to generate some modicum of conversation. And sometimes, it was just nice that they could be sitting together, reveling in the fact that there _was_ a together and that it all felt... _right_ , somehow. Just two people on a road trip. Nothing more, nothing less.

At some point, as morning turned to afternoon, Leila drifted off, her head lolling to and fro with the movements of the car, and as Regina looked to her side, she felt sorry for the girl and decided to wake her. "Leila, dear," she called out softly, hoping not to startle her. When nothing happened, Regina reached over to her and placed her hand on her arm to lightly shake her. "Sweetheart, wake up, we're almost home."

Leila startled, yanking her arm away from Regina's grasp. Regina flinched and she was quick to amend her mistake. "Your head was bouncing around, I didn't... I didn't want you to have a sore neck later." She placed both hands back on the steering wheel. "And besides, we're almost here." She pointed to the 'Welcome to Storybrooke' sign just ahead and to her left. "See?"

“Yep.” Leila yawned, “I see.”

She folded her arms tightly across her chest, shuffling her body towards the door and away from Regina. She wasn’t generally very pleasant after waking up, and even less so when she was startled. The rest of the short ride through the center of town passed quickly and silently, neither wanting to make the final transition any harder than it had to be.

As they pulled up in front of the Mayoral Mansion, however, Leila's mouth fell open in shock. "I've seen it before, but never up close. It's like it grew two stories since the last time I saw it."

Regina smiled nervously, not sure if that was meant as a compliment or a jab. "Yes, dear. It's a bit much sometimes, but it serves its purpose. Wait until you see the backyard, it's my favorite part of the entire house," she finished with a conspiratorial whisper.

Leila turned and looked at her, slightly apologetic for her post-nap behavior. They’d been getting along surprisingly well before. She no longer felt grumpy in the least, excitement bubbling up in her chest against her will. "There's more in the back? Can we go there first? I've...I've never had a _real_ backyard before."

Regina's face lit up. "Of course we can."

As they both exited the car, Regina walked slightly ahead of Leila, letting her take everything in; the beautiful paved walkway, lined with potted plants, bursting with color, the carefully trimmed hedges, the lush of green. She unlatched the gate and ushered the girl in, hoping that her favorite place in the world would feel just like home to her daughter.

All around the perimeter of the yard were multi-colored hydrangeas, snapdragons, purple coneflowers, aster, daisies, and a rather funny gnome. A gorgeous display of summer's (and Regina's) most prized jewels. A vivacious apple tree lived in the left corner, brilliant red apples weighing down its branches, a hammock sandwiched between it and a medium sized fountain with a running waterfall completing the back half of the yard. In the front corner was a raised vegetable garden full of green, _so_ much green. Regina _obviously_ had a green thumb.

Leila stood, shellshocked. "Did you do all this yourself? It's...I can't believe you _live_ here." She paused, shaking her head, making Regina freeze at the possible negative connotation of the expression. “I can’t believe _I_ live here.”

Regina chuckled softly, relieved. "Yes, I did. Nothing makes me feel more like myself than being in nature; growing and nurturing it gives me peace. You're welcome to spend as much time out here as you'd like.”

“I think this is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. You grow your own food too?”

Regina shrugged, a little pleased smile gracing her lips. "There's nothing like a dinner made of home-grown vegetables."

Leila smiled, nodding like she knew what Regina was talking about, and began wandering around the yard, stopping to look at every little detail, taking everything she possibly could in. “This pond has fish in it? That’s so cool! I’ve never had fish before!”

Regina laughed, walking over to join her. “The yard can have anything you’d like it to have. Whatever your heart desires, truly. This is my sanctuary... it can be yours as well." Regina looked at the girl's wonderment and chuckled softly to herself, reaching out to touch Leila's arm gently, but immediately pulling it back, not wanting to force herself into the girl's space again. "Why don’t you come join me?”

She smiled, motioning for Leila to come with her, sitting down on the wooden swing located just behind them close to the deck. Letting her heels fall from her feet, she leaned back with her eyes closed, allowing the rays of the sun to rejuvenate her spirit; the peace, the quiet, and her love for her garden revitalizing her heart.

Breathing deeply and finally allowing herself to relax, the butterflies in her stomach from the ride ‘home’ for the first time settled as she watched Regina in her element. She looked so beautiful. _Happy_. _Like how I’d always imagined my mother would be_. Taking her cue from Regina, she kicked her sneakers from her feet and ran her toes through the grass as the ebb and flow of the swing made her revel in the moment. She was sitting on a swing, inches away from a woman she’d only dreamt about, in the most beautiful backyard, _her_ backyard. It was all just so…surreal. She smiled. It was all a dream come true. Better than any dream in fact.

Reaching out, she gently entwined two of her fingers with Regina’s. She felt immensely closer to her in that moment and if she was going to get used to having a _mom_ , some physical contact might be warranted, it felt like a small step in the right direction.

As fingers were laced with hers, Regina looked up slightly at the contact, eyeing the girl next to her. Eyes closed, toes in the grass, a look of contentment across her face. This was her _daughter_ , her little girl. She’d dreamt of this exact moment more than a hundred times. Wished she could share her love for nature with Leila, wished she could share everything with the girl. And here they were, _touching_ , swinging together. All she could do was smile. Nothing in the entire world could ruin this moment. A single tear came to her left eye; her garden just became even _more_ beautiful.

 

\--------

 

As the patio door slid open and then shut again with a loud thud, Robin emerged, clad in a hunter green polo shirt and khaki shorts, striding towards them in beige deck shoes; he looked the part of a put-together, yet somewhat pretentious, displaced frat boy. His sandy blonde locks combed neatly to one side, his subtle stubble evidence of his time away in the ‘elements’ as Regina had explained. With a commanding voice he spoke, breaking the comforting silence that had engulfed the pair. “Regina, my love, you’re home early."

Both women opened their eyes quickly, the bonding moment clearly over as Leila released Regina’s hand and buried her own between her quickly crossed legs. A sudden flush crept up her neck and behind her ears, an odd sort of guilt plucking at her chest.

Glancing apologetically at Leila, Regina sighed and smoothed out her dress, standing as her fiancé began to approach them both. When Regina caught Leila tense next to her she quickened her pace towards him to create a more comfortable distance for the girl. He smiled confidently, more as if he were heading into a business meeting than seeing his fiancée after a time away, and the behavior struck Leila as odd and she filed it away for later.

As she watched the two of them walk towards each other, she felt an instant desire to protect Regina, but from what she wasn't sure. It was the first time she felt something familial towards the woman and it startled her with its fierceness. _You protect the ones you love._

She didn't like the look in Robin's eyes, the look of cool ambivalence, of obligation without desire, and didn't like the way he carried himself with such an err of importance. His behavior made her nervous, like something was brewing under the surface, more than just a surprise guest. She decided that if she were going to make an effort with this woman, she'd need to listen to her gut every step of the way. Regina _did_ make her feel safe, and the buried desire to be part of a family with her told Leila that she should reciprocate, that's what family does, right? She took a deep breath, nodded to herself in firm resolution, and jogged to catch up.

He caught her eye as she came up behind Regina, his mouth open, ready to say words he must have decided against with strange company present, as he quickly closed it and tilted his head to look at her quizzically. She stopped, planting her feet in line next to Regina's so he _knew_ that he couldn't be an ass to either of them and get away with it.

Robin stopped his movements when Leila began approaching them and turned his attention directly to Regina. He'd planned on finding out exactly why she'd been rude enough to bring a guest to their home without informing him, knowing that he'd be home from a trip and definitely in need of freshening up before entertaining. When the girl quickly caught up and looked at him expectantly, he calmed, realizing that the situation didn't call for a pointless argument and that he'd been a bit too quick with his frustration.

He sighed, Regina looking at him with nervousness and the girl next to her looking at him skeptically and decided mincing words wasn't worth it. He nodded at them both, smiling big and full. "Honey, you should have called me first if you were bringing company, I would have prepared something for us all to eat. I feel like such a terrible host, I apologize.”

Regina smiled back, ever so tightly. “I wasn’t expecting you home for a few more days, but what a lovely surprise.” She placed her palms on his broad shoulders briefly, drawing her hands down his chest, then kissed him gently on the cheek. A moment passed between them all, nobody knowing exactly what to say before Regina realized she was standing shell-shocked instead of introducing him to her... _their?_ new daughter. “Forgive me, Leila, dear, this is Robin, my fiancé.”

Robin smiled a little awkwardly, extending his hand to shake the girl’s. “Very nice to meet you, Leila. Welcome to our home.” Turning to Regina expectantly, he shrugged a little and chuckled. “I apologize for the awkwardness, Regina neglected to mention we were having company and admittedly, I too just arrived home from a little vacation and I'm sure I'm disgusting. Surprise to us all!”

Leila smirked, shrugging a little; she too could exude ambivalence just as well, but immediately looked down when she caught his eye, shoving her hands deep into her jean pockets. Sensing her discomfort, Regina piped up, clearing her throat quickly, deciding it would be better just to get it all out at once. “Robin, darling, I think perhaps we should talk."

He looked at Regina skeptically and shrugged. "Alright..."

Leila wanted to be anywhere but in this backyard. Anywhere but standing next to Regina as she prepared to shake up this guy’s entire life. She wished for invisibility in that way that little kids do and wished that this would all just be over. If only her desire was strong enough to grant her her wish. As Regina looked to her for some support, all Leila could do was shrink down behind her. She'd never dealt with an introduction this intimate before. Her biological mother's boyfriend? She desperately had to control her flight urge and not run off. She'd made the choice to stand with her mother, she certainly couldn't back down now.

Sensing no help would come her way, Regina straightened her posture and looked Robin dead in the eyes. "Leila is... well... she’s my daughter.”

Robin's face dropped, his mouth opened slightly, and he simply stared at Regina for a few moments, then started looking quickly back and forth between them, completely flabbergasted. “Your...your _what_?”

Realizing the eventuality of an argument brewing over the lack of information, Leila decided to speak up and save her mother after all. She stepped forward hesitantly, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Regina once again. “She’s my biological mother. When she was sixteen she gave me up for adoption. A few days ago I found her when I tried to get emancipated. I was never adopted and I've basically been on my own for years now so..."

Oh god, she was rambling. She stopped, sighed, took a deep breath, readjusted her posture and continued, trying to pull it all together. Most of this stuff she'd never even discussed out loud before and it felt weird to be doing it to a complete stranger.

"It's a long story but I ended up in her custody. Well, hers and Emma Swan’s since she was also on my birth certificate, but that's something else altogether. We're still trying to figure it all out. It's pretty messy right now and I'm sorry we're springing it on you, but it kinda is what it is and I'm here to stay, for a few months at least.”

A few more awkward moments passed of him glancing between them, scrutinizing them, probably trying to see if the resemblance was there enough for it all to be true passed before Robin finally spoke. He turned his body away from Leila and moved in a bit closer to Regina, a harsh almost whisper came directly at her.  “A — a daughter, Regina? This isn’t something you spring on someone!”

Regina’s eyes narrowed, her arms crossing over her chest as she took a step backwards, away from him. “Well, if you’d answered any of your calls, texts, or voice messages, you’d know just as much as I do. However, you decided to shut out the real world on your little...what’d you call it? A ‘man-cation’?”

Robin breezed past her insult with a small wave of his hand. He started to turn to walk back into the house when he froze. “Wait, Emma Swan? Why does she even have two mothers? It's not biologically possible. The last time I checked, a woman requires more than companionship to create a child. Not to mention how much you despise her”

At Leila's quizzical glance between them, Regina interrupted with a palm firmly extended. "Robin, you don't need to be rude and you certainly don't need to comment on things you don't understand. I'll fill you in on the details later this evening. We've had a long few days and a long drive home from Boston, and I'm sure Leila would love to be shown around the house and then to one of the guestrooms to get settled. We're both tired."

Leila shrugged under the hinting of her mother, not really caring that much about a tour of the house, but desperately wanting to get away from whatever was about to transpire after Robin had been thoroughly dismissed. The way adults fought always seemed a bit ridiculous to her and she didn't care to be in the middle of these two.

"Why don't you start something for dinner. I'll go with Leila to the car to get her things, show her to her room, and we'll meet you in the kitchen in just a bit."

Robin hardened at Regina's dismissal, but smiled kindly in Leila's direction, nodding to her as he left them once more, slamming the glass sliding door a bit harder than necessary in frustration.

Regina grazed Leila's arm with her fingertips, trying to comfort the girl. "I apologize for his behaviour. We haven't exactly had a chance to discuss the particulars of your arrival. Don't worry, he'll be over himself in a little bit. I didn't mean for you to be so in the middle of that."

"Oh, it's okay. It's not like I've never seen adults arguing before. It's a lot to spring on someone though, he's right." She started to walk towards the gate with Regina at her heels, briefly turning to look back at the door Robin just entered. "He seems very...formal. Obnoxiously put together, too."

Regina laughed. "Well, yes, I suppose he can be both of those things at times. I'm sure once everything sinks in things will calm down. He really is rather endearing; charming, even, when he plays his cards right. He'll warm up.” She opened the gate again and followed Leila out to the car. “Shall we?"

 

**\--------**

 

Opening the trunk with the key fob, Regina was taken aback when she saw everything Leila owned laid out in front of her once more. "This is everything? Just these two plastic bags? And that backpack?" Regina cringed.

"Yep, this is it. I've never really been big on 'stuff'. I haven't been in one place long enough to fill more than two bags." She pulled one from the trunk and reached for the other, but Regina swatted her hand away. Leila smiled and nodded her acceptance, and Regina swiftly lifted the bag out and held it against herself. "Being able to get things together quickly is sort of a necessity when you move around as much as I do."

"Remind me to get you a proper suitcase. I imagine it'll make things easier if you ever spend the night with Emma."

She shrugged, lacing her arms through the straps of her backpack and then twisted the tied garbage bag in her left hand. She had never thought much of her packing system before, but something sad in Regina’s eyes made her feel like a small child again. Was she having second thoughts? Was it pity? It terrified her to consider the possibilities. But, as always, Regina managed to surprise her, in the best of ways.

"I'd like for this to be the last time you have to do that. Move permanently, I mean. And if for some reason, it _does_ happen again, know with certainty that you’ll always be welcome here. And if you think we can find a way to make this feel like home for you, know that I want nothing more. From now on, _this_ can be home." She didn't turn to see what Leila's reaction was, just kept walking to the front steps. There was a degree of privacy concerning her feelings that she refused to break, especially now that she felt trusted. "Don't worry, I promise it's not as scary as it might seem. I do hope you'll like it, though."

And for the first time in the young girl's life, as she crossed the threshold to her new home, she wasn't afraid. Wasn't afraid of who would be behind those doors, and wasn't afraid of how long it all would last. She hoped — no, she _knew_ that if she let it, this could someday become home. _Home_. The word just kept resounding all around her, like an echo. One where she could walk around without looking over her shoulder, have her very own bedroom, or three, and one where she could sneak downstairs for ice cream in the middle of the night and not worry about the consequences in the morning. Part of her had the sneaking suspicion that Regina might even join her.

This could be it. She knew this was _it_. A place she could finally call her own.

 

\--------

 

When Regina was sure that Leila was comfortably settling into the last room on their little tour of the house, she marched down the stairs confidently and in the direction of the kitchen; she knew Robin well enough to know that he was already working on something delicious for their dinner. If nothing else, she could at least credit him with that: the man could cook.

The heavenly scent of a fresh tomato sauce wafted under her nose as she pushed through the swinging door, revealing her fiancé completely in his element, just as she had pictured him. He turned at the sound of her heels against the oak floor, and neither moved for a few awkward moments. He reached around to an ornate hook on the wall and offered her an apron wordlessly, which she draped over her dress and tied swiftly. She walked evenly into his space, taking her usual place at the cutting board with salad ingredients strewn across the counter in front of her, cooking with him back-to-back as he commanded several pots on the stove. They were a team, and a good one at that.

The rapid movement of the steel chef’s knife against Regina’s cutting board was the only sound breaking the tense silence surrounding them as they moved about the kitchen, completely in sync. She and Robin had prepared simple, quick dinners together so many times over the years, they could go through the motions with their eyes closed.

He was, however, usually much louder about it. Sometimes belting out Italian opera just to annoy Regina, sometimes rifling through the pantry and taking everything piece by piece. Always playing, always trying to make her laugh. Sometimes he'd come up behind her and pinch her sides or twist the small curls at the base of her neck with his fingers. It would be rather endearing if it weren't so irritating. It felt like she lived with an actual child most days.

And if she actually _wanted_ that out of a marriage, it would have been a wonderful arrangement. But she absolutely hated all the things he did while trying to rile her up and play with her. Regina Mills did _not_ play.

Nobody had ever asked her what her ideal partner would be. What she looked for in someone. Not until Emma had the night before. She imagined someone who would enlighten her with conversations about every little thing about life. About their days. About work. About their hopes and dreams. About the books that she'd read or that they'd read together.

Someone who fought her when the situation required it instead of giving in to her every whim...or worse, expecting her to give into theirs. Someone who challenged her and argued with her, but could also concede when she stood to reason. Who listened to her when she spoke, who engaged with her instead of just pretending to be interested. She wanted someone she could choose for herself.

 _Emma_.

Instead, she was matched with someone who never said much of anything substantial. Who told her (and everyone else) how glad he was that they were together every chance he got, but never actually wanted to spend time with her outside of the kitchen (or the bedroom). Who pecked her on the cheek in public, who only read the business section of the paper, who loved to talk about _golf,_ and loved going drinking with his fraternity brothers.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with him, he just wasn't a good fit for her. She wanted passion — _needed_ it, in _everything_. Passion for something, about something. She wanted her skin to surge with electricity with every touch. Her stomach to turn every time they kissed. To be loved unconditionally, even if things didn't go well. Someone who she didn't have to work to be with, but someone who would work to be together with her.

She could feel him behind her, shifting uneasily from side to side in front of the stove. Regina looked up from chopping and placed her knife quietly on the board in front of her, addressing him without turning around. "Are we going to discuss this? Or are you going to continue the 'not-so-silent’ treatment?"

Robin tensed and stilled his stirring. "I just don't understand, after _all_ _these_ _years_ , just forgetting to mention you had a child floating around in the world! We're engaged, that's something you tell the person you're going to spend the rest of your life with." He slammed the wooden spoon down next to the copper pot where his sauce bubbled menacingly, threatening to boil over.

Cringing at the splattered mess on the counter, she walked over to him, wiped it up with the towel that was over her shoulder while simultaneously lowering the burner’s heat level. "It's a part of my past I am not proud of. There's only one other person who knew about it, so I didn't think it was pertinent information to share because it was never supposed to get out. It was supposed to be a burden I carried alone."

"Well, that's just great." He began, rolling his eyes as sarcasm dripped from his tone. "Do you at least know who the father is? We'll need to get ahead of this right away, Regina."

Regina narrowed her eyes and scoffed. "Because I was known for having _so_ many suitors in school, and I _obviously_ slept around, right? Don't accuse me of things without any knowledge of the situation." She took a deep breath and held it. "Thank you, I guess it's good to know how much you think of me."

"Regina, that's not what I —!"

"Save it," she pled in an exhale. "The truth is, it’s not even something I remember. It was like waking up from a hazy dream and the next thing I knew I was pregnant. So no, I don't know who her father is. I honestly don't _care_ at this point."

He blanched and leaned back against the counter onto his palms, letting his head drop back on his neck as he blew out his own held breath. "You don't know who her father is? Don't you at least have a list of possible candidates? There are tests we can run if —"

Regina's eyes hardened into a black, angry glare. "Did _you_ keep a list of all the women you slept with before me? I assure you, your number is significantly higher than mine. It’s _our_ _future_ you should be concerned with, not my past. For now, Leila is here and I'm not sending her away again. You can either make peace with not knowing who her father is, and accept her for who she is, or you can get out."

He sighed heavily, and, as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t take her eyes away from his. Robin reached across the space between them, resting his palm gently over the back of her hand.

"I'm supposed to know everything about you, past and present."

"Robin, there's a _reason_ why you don't know everything about my past," she began severely, piercing his eyes with her own, "not only is it mine, and I wish it wasn't, it's something I don't _want_ to remember. Why would I drag mud inside a brand new house? It just doesn't work that way with me. I’ve told you this before."

"What — _when_?" His demand made her perfectly sculpted eyebrow arch just the right amount.

"From the beginning," she answered with a tone of finality. “You knew that I choose not to dwell on the past, and promised to love me moving _forward_.”

“Regina, I _do_ love you, and you know that,” he paused, a look of understanding flashing through his eyes. “Is she the reason you've refused to have a child with me?"

"No, she's not. I simply won't bring another child into this world with a parent who resents them.” She explained, impassioned, “I don't want to have a child who will just be seen as a business transaction. I won't do to my child what my mother did to me. It's an awful way to grow up, and it's an awful way to feel. You should know, it's what yours did to you too." Turning back to her task, she took a calming breath before she picked up the knife and resumed chopping again, this time quicker and harder.

Robin looked as though he'd been stabbed through the heart. "My childhood wasn't as awful as you make it seem. You don't think I would love our child, Regina?"

She paused her ministrations and took another deep breath. "Oh, I have no doubt that _you_ would love them. But sometimes love isn't enough."

"How is love not enough? That's all there is."

"Not when it comes to raising a child, Robin. You're molding a baby into a future member of society. Even the most well meaning parent can ruin a child's life," she paused, turning her head away from him in shame. "I'm sure you can ask Leila all the ways I've scarred her for life with my neglect."

"But you could have a fresh start with _our_ child. She only has a few more years until she's an adult, you have your whole life ahead of you. Don't let a decision you made when _you_ were a child halt your entire future."

"Don't you understand? I gave up my future when I gave her away. I gave my future to her and her new family. Only, she didn't get a family, just a broken heart and a lot of hard life lessons she never should have had to learn, especially not alone. Don't tell me that I should just _let it go_ and move on because she's almost old enough to be considered an adult."

"I'm sure she hasn't had an easy life, but that isn't your fault. You didn't do that _to_ her. She made those decisions for herself. I got into some trouble when I was young, but they make boarding and military schools for a reason, it certainly straightened me out. I made a choice to grow up and make something of myself."

"Because your family had the money to send you there so they didn't have to deal with your behavior. And that's exactly why I don't want another child. Your instinct is to ship them off so that someone else can teach them what they're supposed to be and how they're supposed to act. That isn't parenting."

"I learned a lot at the academy. Marksmanship is no easy feat, and neither were the business and negotiation skills they taught me, I became a man there. It's helped provide you with this life of luxury you've grown so accustomed to. It's a nice life, and it'd be a nice life for a child too."

"Money doesn't buy everything, dear."

"Well, it buys enough to make up for what it doesn't, I suppose."

"You're wrong. And ever since you've started working in Paris you've changed. You used to care about making a difference in people's lives, now all you care about is profiting from them. You spend too much time with your father."

"Our company provides jobs and security. That _is_ making a difference. My father is an amazing businessman, I'm lucky to work under him, as would our child. I'm sure he'd want to follow in our footsteps, and that's a noble pursuit."

Regina paused, letting his words wash over her. She argued, no less impassioned, "Suppose we _do_ have a child, we give it all the love in the world, all the opportunity and privilege that comes with having our last names, we spoil it and give it everything we never had. We teach it right from wrong and everything that will mold it into the best person it could possibly become. And then when the time is right, your father will come calling, just as he _always_ does, to secure his precious lineage for the future of his company. Just as he did to you, and you'll bow down to him and hand him our child like it was all your idea and he'll be so proud of you. No, I will _never_ let that happen."

Robin folded his arms over his chest, looking away from her indignantly. “My father would never do something like that. I choose to work for him. I’m proud to work for him. It's a good, wholesome company.” He returned his gaze to her, and was surprised by the look of complete disdain she gave him.

“You’re _proud_ of what you do? You buyout honest, hard working small businesses and sell them to large corporations so they can have a monopoly. Stealing from the poor to give to the rich?” She shrugged, emitting an empty, judgemental chuckle. “You make a lot of money, but don’t pretend it’s an honest day’s work.”

A muscle in Robin’s neck twitched as he turned away from her to stir each of his pots once more, though they both knew none of it needed his attention. “Deflecting the real issue at hand is a cop-out, Regina. I am not the issue here, nor is my father.”

"Oh, please. You don't have to play games with me, Robin.  _You’re_ the one who told me how _pleased_ our parents were when we started dating. And I also know that you had your hands in this arrangement of ours, somehow." She huffed a bit as he froze. "Your father told me so at the engagement party. 'I'll always give my son what he desires. I'm just so _proud_ that it was you.'"

Robin turned and slammed the spoon down on the stove once more, repeating his previous words to her. "He would _never_ say something like that!"

Regina sighed. Robin would always be blind to the true nature of his father’s business, and she knew better than to attempt to argue with him about it. It was an exercise in futility, now or any other time. "Regardless, I know that my mother promised him an heir to his empire. I saw the contract with both their signatures on it. My child, _any_ child of mine, will never be forced to do or be anything they don’t want to."

"It would be my child too, Regina. And I'd be a good father just as I'll be a good husband, why else would you agree to marry me? Don't I have any say in our future together?"

"You mean like I did in mine?" She demanded with a frown, clearly affronted, standing her ground but still allowing a bit too much emotion to spill out into the argument. "Besides, how do you think it would look to my daughter, after taking her in sixteen years too late, to suddenly have another baby right in front of her when I chose not to raise Leila myself?"

Robin's face fell. He knew she was right, about Leila, and about any child they would have together. He knew he'd never be able to stand up to his father like he should. It wasn't about his father's agreement, really. Yes, he knew there had to be something. He hadn’t even known about it in the beginning; he’d simply asked for his father to use his acquaintance with Cora Mills to secure him a date with the beautiful woman he’d admired in many of his classes.

Before long, it was about creating a life with Regina, a future with her and the particulars didn't matter. That was all he'd wanted since he first met her. Even if it meant begging his father to find a way to make her see him, to _want_ him. Even if it meant moving to this small, boring town so she could be the mayor. He didn't care how it happened or what the conditions were, he just wanted to love her. To be _in love_ with her, and have it returned. She was so perfect, and his father approved. What else could he ask for?

Over time, it became clearer to him that there had indeed been some sort of arrangement between their parents to make their entire relationship a possibility. And while they both knew it to be true, neither of them had the audacity to discuss it aloud until this very conversation. Robin thought perhaps he preferred it left unsaid.

But Regina was right; now there was another life in the mix and it did change things. It obviously had already changed Regina. He had an idea in his head of what the perfect life would be, even from a young age. A beautiful wife, a successful career, children running around to carry on his legacy, and he saw nothing wrong with wanting that. In taking them camping and teaching them to love the world outside of office buildings, to teach them to protect themselves and others. To have honor and dignity and strength. He may have had to take a slight detour in order to get ahead in his father's company so he could go off on his own later, but that was temporary, it didn't change who he was like Regina claimed it did.

He and Regina had never been able to agree on what their future would hold, and now he could see clearly why. If he did well by Leila, accepted her and helped give her a good life, maybe Regina would see that he _could_ be a good husband and father. That he could love and nurture a child. There was no use in arguing, he'd just have to show her over time.

"I think we've both said some things that we'll regret later, and I think enough has been said for one evening."

"Oh, do you? That's not...you know what? Of course it is. You always need to have the last word." She scoffed, shaking her head. "You need to let that simmer longer," she reached over and dipped a spoon into the sauce and brought it to her lips. "And add more salt and a dash of cayenne. It's exceptionally bland."

He huffed, waiting until she'd turned around and put a dash more salt in the pan and looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Which room is she staying in? Did you at least let her pick?"

“Of course I did. She's at the far end of the hall with the ensuite."

"Good, the privacy will help her."

"I hope so."

"Don't worry, once some time has passed she'll settle in and feel at home. She'll be okay, you don't have to worry so much. She seems strong and resilient."

Regina smiled, nodding to him as she took her apron off and placed it over the hook. She wasn’t sure how he managed to do this; in a matter of seconds she went from being furious with his arrogance and stubbornness to softly accepting that things would blow over and her indifference towards him wouldn't matter. Because above all else they were friends, and she wasn't alone. It was utterly vexing.

"It doesn't matter where she came from or how she got here, you know. I'll take care of her as I care for you. It doesn't matter who her father is, you are her mother and that's enough for me. I hope that we can at least try to be a family someday. I'd like that."

Regina forced a smile and stepped into his space, which prompted him to wrap her tightly in his arms. Maybe it was just easier to leave things where they fell. He clasped his hands together at the small of her back and rested his chin on her head, swaying softly. She closed her eyes and leaned against him, wishing that her heart was beating erratically in response to his touch, instead of in response to the sudden, involuntary memory of a different set of arms holding her close.

She hadn’t had more than half an hour of sleep, and she felt a phantom tingle of Emma’s touch on her skin when Robin’s fingers moved upwards in their embrace and traced casually along the backs of her arms.

She was suddenly much too warm and in search of any escape route.

"Why don't you go upstairs and see how she's doing? I'm sure she fell asleep waiting for supper. She's probably starving." At his questioning look as to why she'd send him upstairs, she continued, an amused smile flashing as she wrinkled her nose. "And you smell like the woods. Go change."

He laughed heartily and kissed her cheek as he walked by, hanging his apron on the hook as he departed the kitchen.

 

\--------

 

As Regina took her from room to room, nervously explaining a little about each one and what they held and why, Leila found herself completely exhausted. She appreciated Regina's enthusiasm and desire to make the girl feel at home, but she needed some space. And as Regina pushed the door open to the final room, Leila sighed knowing this guest room was where she could stay.

It was so large. The number of rooms seemed never ending, she knew she'd get lost when she tried to navigate it on her own later, and all she could think about was unpacking her crap and getting settled. After Regina had excused herself and softly closed the door, Leila almost didn’t know what to do with herself; _almost_.

Walking to the middle of the room, she picked up the bags and shook her head at them sadly. Regina had been right about one thing, suitcases would be a lot more convenient, and would definitely make her feel less like a homeless person. She tossed the bags into the empty closet and swiftly closed the doors. She could unpack later. She treaded over to the heavenly-looking bed, stopped in place, and spun around one time to take the room in. It was fairly simple, but more luxurious than anything she could have imagined for herself. _This is a guest room?_

One large bed, probably a queen size, covered with pillows and blankets in varying shades of purple that looked like they could swallow her whole. A small writing desk against the wall near the closet, and a beautiful armoire directly across from the bed that, upon further inspection, she realized housed a rather large tv behind its intricately carved doors. The walls were adorned with several impressionist paintings, scenes of nature following a common, calming theme.

Regina clearly had a certain style. She flopped unceremoniously on her back, bouncing slightly. _I think I’m gonna like it here._

 

\--------

 

An hour or so later, a soft knock on the door awoke her from her light slumber. It was so strange to have someone knock to be let in; in every place she'd ever lived, the doors were slammed open faster than she could even register someone was coming in. She'd never known what real privacy was until this moment. She was startled to realize that some new habits could come from a much more nurturing home, and it honestly made her nervous.

She didn't even remember falling asleep. It must have been the bed sucking her into it's perfect comfy-ness.

"Come in..." She chimed, bracing herself for whomever was behind the door. She wasn't sure if she was ready to see Regina again just yet ( _just a few more minutes to myself_ ,) but it was something she'd have to get used to living in this house. She could adjust, she thought. She was good at adapting.

The door slowly opened to reveal Robin, sans the deck shoes, now clad in socks and college sweatpants, a lightly colored t-shirt completing his “comfy” look that could have been from the pages of a magazine. _Thank God_. He was easy. There weren't any feelings tangling up every word that came from his mouth.

"Oh, hey." She waved awkwardly, struggling to lift herself from the cocoon of blankets she had apparently surrounded herself with while she slept.

"Regina sent me up here to make sure you were alright."

With a little shrug, she shifted up into a seated position and smiled softly. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep. It's been a long day... and this bed is insanely soft." She nodded for Robin to come in, gesturing vaguely up and down at his attire. "I like you a lot better in those clothes."

He smiled, opened the door more and walked into the room, sitting down carefully on the edge of the bed as far from her as possible. She was always amused by the way new adults in her life, especially men, the decent ones anyway, started their interactions by drawing an invisible line between them.

"I do too. I promise I'm not an uptight jerk. It's... you're kind of a lot to be surprised with. I'm sorry for how I handled the news." He looked down at his feet in embarrassment, eyes closing in shame. "I want you to know that I meant my words, and that I want to give this situation a try."

She tucked her legs beneath her, drawing her long hair over one shoulder as she tilted her head while she examined his words for the truth. Then, she smiled, leaning forward onto one palm to get him to meet her gaze.

"It's really fine. I figured I'd give you a little time, and I guess I needed a nap anyway." She faked a yawn to prove her point, stretching her arms above her, making him chuckle.

"I bet. From what I hear it's been a long weekend for everyone." He patted the bed and bounced a little in place. "I hope this bed is comfortable enough. It was the warmest guest room in the house and Regina wanted to spoil you until other arrangements can be made."

“Other arrangements?” Leila panicked slightly, her voice jumping nearly an octave on the second word. Her heartbeat quickened as she internally scolded herself. She’d broken one of her own cardinal rules; never get too comfortable too quickly.

Robin noted her dismay and touched her knee lightly. "Oh, no, don't worry. I think she's planning to clear out a bigger room downstairs to give you more space." He shrugged and looked around the room. "She's trying, you know."

“I know,” Leila admitted, her shoulders sagging as the weight of her relief dragged her back down to rest on the heap of pillows behind her. “A little too hard maybe?”

"That's Regina, though. She never does anything half-assed. She's usually so in control, but I can see she's having trouble figuring out which way is up." He remarked with a smile and a light laugh. "First time for everything, I guess."

Discomfort curled its way through her chest and down to each of her limbs as she twisted to the other side on the bed. Her feelings about Regina were confusing enough without extra insight into her psyche. “And you? You’re just...okay with this brand new living situation?”

“I can’t say I wasn’t...concerned, obviously.” He conceded, choosing his words carefully. “But it’s not something we can’t all figure out,  _together_.”

“Yeah, I'm sure it wasn't easy news to come home to. Please don't be angry with her, she did try to get in touch with you." She smiled at him and paused for a moment of reflection. She found herself constantly feeling the need to protect Regina, even if she was constantly the tiniest bit uncertain about her. Almost as if she'd sensed that the woman was just as messed up as she was. She couldn't help it, she liked saving people; maybe because she couldn't save herself. "I assume the two of you worked things out?"

Robin looked up at the girl, _really_ looked at her. Smiling proudly, he sighed. "We worked it out. We're working on the communication thing." He paused. "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you look just like her." He quirked an eyebrow and chuckled a little to himself. "The blonde is different though. At least we'll look like a family." He ran his fingers through his hair uncomfortably. "Because of the blonde, I mean."

She smirked, tucking her own blonde hair smoothly behind one ear and nodded. She hated when men laughed at their own lame jokes. "Yeah, I got what you meant. Looking like a family is important, I guess. I think I'd like to actually try to be one first though, if that's okay with you."

She didn’t know exactly where Regina stood on Robin’s role in their fledgling little family, but she decided she had the right to make at least this decision, between just Robin and herself, on her own. Leila shrugged and extended her hand to him. "Do over?"

Robin's eyes lit and he smiled at her warmly. Standing up, he took her proffered hand and pulled her up to stand before him. "Families don't shake hands, we hug." Embracing her and giving her a good squeeze he let go and put his hands into his pockets. "Nice to meet you, I'm Robin. I'm marrying your mom and I'm really looking forward to getting to know you."

A bit flustered, as she wasn't used to all the physical contact just yet, she shoved him a little in the arm and walked past him to brace the door. At least it wasn't personal. "Something smells really amazing down there. Does this family eat dinner together too? Come on."

“You go on down to the kitchen, and I’ll be there in a minute. I’m just going to check on Regina first.” He jerked his head towards the master bedroom down the hall, and she shrugged in response.

“Sure. But if the food’s as good as it smells, I can’t promise there will be anything left for the two of you.” She wiggled her eyebrows playfully, stomping her way down the stairs in the direction of whatever smelled so damn delicious.

 

\--------

 

Regina knew that Robin had a charm about him, an easy, comfortable charm that she found slightly endearing. It was as if everyone he met loved him immediately. He'd strike up conversations with complete strangers and one would think they were best friends by the way they spoke. It was a trait she wished she possessed, and it gave her something to admire about the man. She may not have been in love with him, but caring for him deeply was not a difficult task. He had always been a great friend, even before they were coupled.

She also knew that if she suggested Robin make nice with Leila, it'd allow her enough time to change out of her clothes from the night before, _her night with Emma_ , and to perhaps make herself a little more comfortable.

She shrugged out of the dress, remembering Emma’s fingertips as they slid gracelessly against her bare skin, while she fumbled with the zipper. Remembered how _long_ it had taken her, painfully long, and how Regina might have pretended to be a little more inebriated than she actually was so that Emma would touch her - would push the boundaries of their relationship. She had known the blonde long enough to know that her weakness was a beautiful woman in a skin-tight dress, especially in conjunction with a few shots of tequila.

It wasn't that Regina had deliberately made the evening go as it had, it just so happened she knew which buttons to push at the right moments. She always knew her audiences better than they knew themselves; it was one of her many gifts. One of her mother's many lessons: Manipulation 101.

She thought briefly of retiring the dress completely, but a sudden image of Emma’s reaction if she wore it to the next town meeting changed her mind.

She felt her cheeks warm and knew she needed to clear her head before she faced Robin again. He'd know something had transpired and demand answers if her composure was even the slightest bit off. She walked into her closet, neatly returning the dress to its hanger and placed the shoes on the shelf, adjusting them so they lined up perfectly with their companions, the high-heeled army behind her regal persona.

She tugged on a pair of well-worn, faded black yoga pants and an airy v-neck sweater, straining to listen for the sound of soft voices down the hall in the guest bedroom. She just made out Robin’s lilting, calm tone and determined that they must have found common ground and would be talking for long enough that she could finally take a moment for herself to just breathe.

She took a seat at her vanity in the corner of the room, searching for a loose piece of paper and pen in her messy space to jot down a few thoughts. For someone who had every aspect of her outward life organized beyond reason, she had one small piece of organized chaos in this room.

Relocating a few bottles onto the rotating, silver vanity tray, she thoughtfully began to release her words on the stationery as quickly as she could. There was a chocolate cake to be removed from the oven, after all, and she still wasn’t entirely sure Robin had seasoned the sauce properly.

Moments later, she penned her name with a flourish, folded and sealed the stationary, placing it neatly in an envelope, and tucked it gently away in the middle drawer of the vanity. She stood, gracefully slid the chair back to its resting place, and crossed over to the threshold of the room.

She'd made the decision on a whim to bake Leila a cake. She knew she was pushing the girl a little too quickly, but she felt she had to make up for so much. Perhaps she needed to stop trying to fit it all into one night. She took a deep breath, calming her swirling thoughts and opened the door, running right into Robin as he tried to enter at the same time.

“Oh! There you are,” he smiled warmly, stepping forward slowly towards her, which prompted her to retreat back into the room along with him. “I just sent Leila down to the kitchen so that we could all have dinner together. But, if we’re alone for a few moments...”

Closing the door behind them, turning her and walking her back so she rested against it, he reached forward with his right arm and grasped the back of her neck, pulling her into him with a devilish grin. She recoiled slightly, pressing her hands to his chest.

"Robin, darling, we really... she's just downstairs..." She mumbled, tilting her head to the side automatically as he brushed his lips down her neck. But he was right. She knew that. And kissing him wasn't unpleasant. Over the course of their relationship (it _had_ been over a decade) she'd found a sense of contentment in their intimacy, though it wasn’t often. She was very careful about when and how much she gave herself to Robin, ensuring that while he had no reason to question her desire for him, she was also in no danger of providing an heir to his father’s “throne.”

It was exhausting.

She closed her eyes and simply let go; she allowed her body to melt into his, allowed him to push her a little harder into the frame of the door with the entirety of his body, and welcomed his kiss. Not only welcomed it, but pushed for it. As if she had something to prove to herself in that moment, _last night meant nothing_ , she grabbed the side of his face, tracing the outline of his stubble with her fingers, hooked her right leg around his calf, and welcomed the familiarity of his lips. She allowed the tips of her fingers to drift lazily down to his chest as his kisses turned softer, noticing for the first time the roughness of his fingers as they scratched across the soft skin of her back beneath her sweater; of the stark contrast to her previous evening’s endeavors.

She immediately felt torn.

As he lifted his mouth from her lips to end the impromptu kiss, she grabbed both sides of his face and brought their lips together once more. This time, she kissed him with a fervor she wasn't sure she'd ever used when kissing anyone before. She drew her leg up from around his calf to wrap around his hip instead, eliciting a soft grunt of surprise in the back of his throat as he tugged her closer, placing a firm hand under her thigh and pressing his pelvis into hers, every inch of her pressed tightly between him and the closed door.

She hoped to erase the memories swirling in her mind, hoped to feel even an _ounce_ of something close to what she had the night before. She willed her stomach to flip, begged her brain to become foggy and her knees to go weak at his touch. But no matter how hard, how _passionate_ she was with him, it was obvious to her that nothing would ever compare again. She had been comfortable, perhaps even happy with him, for years, but she had always been able to ignore the passion they lacked, or rather, the passion _she_ lacked for _him_. Clearly, the problem was not Robin; it was her.

As she pulled back, resting their foreheads together as they tried to catch their breath, she dropped her leg from around him and settled herself once more. He was, of course, the first to speak. "I had... _wow_. I had no idea you missed me that much."

Regina nodded, a curt smile crossing her lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Tucking the tag of his shirt back inside his collar she winked at him, just slightly, though it felt half-hearted even to her. "You were gone for quite some time, darling. I thought a proper 'welcome home' was in order."

He chuckled in that eye-roll inducing way he thought was endearing. "Well, if I'd known I'd come home to _that_ kind of a welcome, maybe I'd have come home sooner."

She placed her hands on his chest and looked at his face, saying nothing in response as she hummed quietly, pondering him and his existence in her life altogether. His piercing blue eyes scanned her face, drinking her in. Never looking _into_ her like Emma did, just _at_ her like he couldn't believe he was in the presence of someone so beautiful. It was something she was used to seeing reflected in people's eyes her whole life.

Closing her eyes briefly, composing herself, she faintly heard the buzzing of the oven timer in the kitchen and extracted herself from Robin's grasp. "That'll be the cake. Wouldn't want Leila's first one to burn, would we?"

He grabbed her arm softly and stilled her. "Honey, I know you mean well, but just be careful not to push her too hard too quickly. She seems very skittish." He smiled, reaching to cup Regina's cheek in his strong hand, rubbing his thumb over the corner of her mouth as she pulled away from him. He meant it as a soft gesture, of course. A small way to claim a piece of her.

She remembered back to the night before, that as a last ditch effort to hold onto the moment Emma had traced the corner of her eye. It was sweet, the way Emma did it, as if deciding the only place she could possibly touch was somewhere Regina wouldn't expect, a spot so small and insignificant it would be a place to bring back the memory of Emma's fingertips as they graced over her skin.

Of every inch of Regina's body, that spot was for Emma and Emma alone.

Recoiling again and pulling away from his touch, she quickly spoke, hoping to get out of there. She felt dirty. She felt like she had betrayed Emma's gentleness. _She shouldn't be the one I'm worried about betraying._

"I'm just trying to get through today. There are so many firsts and it's basically still her birthday, I have to do something." She looked to her hand on the door knob and paused, thinking of how she could make the situation a little more welcoming and a lot less 'I missed out on fifteen other birthdays, let me make it up to you today, awkwardly and forced.'

Emma.

She was so good with Leila. That was how she'd fix it.

She'd invite Emma.

"I know you are, and you're doing a great job, I promise. Let's go get something to eat, maybe a meal with just the three of us will help ease some of the tension."

 

\--------

 

She hadn’t even been able to spend more than twenty minutes with Henry after he had called, interrupting her attempt to go after Regina and Leila, making her feel more down than she was willing to admit. She was used to the kid enjoying the few weeks he got to spend with his dad, and she knew that anytime she drove to Boston to surprise them, it was a bit of a risk. How could she compare to Graham unexpectedly scoring two tickets to an afternoon Sox game? She had grinned warmly at their twin pouts, Henry’s more “please don’t be sad, I want to go” and Graham’s more of an apologetic “I’m not trying to show you up.” She had, of course, declined his offer to try to find three seats together and opted to return home to Storybrooke instead. Henry was obviously happy in Boston, and she’d see him in a few weeks anyway.

The four hour drive had been significantly less enjoyable on the return trip home, the plastic cup of expensive inner-city coffee in the cup holder of her still-fairly-new Jeep rapidly cooling as she attempted to combat her exhaustion. She was pretty certain there was still a little alcohol in her system, she hadn’t gotten any sleep, and she was more confused than she had ever been thanks to one, Regina Mills.

And then there was Leila, too. Was she about to become a brand-new parent to a teenaged girl, with her own son on the cusp of puberty? Would she have to attempt to co-parent with Regina when all she wanted to do was kiss her, hold her, perhaps even...love her? Shouldn’t she at least get to take her on a date first? And what about the engagement to Robin she now knew to be a farce?

It was all too much, and she needed someone to mull it all over with her. Thus, after pulling up to her place of business, she found herself shuffling upstairs from the bar, cursing at the brightly sun-lit room, to the loft, where her ridiculous roommates, Ruby and Tinkerbell (whose parents _would_ actually name their child after children’s fiction, believe it or not) were playing their favorite afternoon game of “how many bite-sized candies can we toss into each other’s mouths from across the living room.” As per usual, they were so focused on the task at hand, that neither noticed her trudging up next to Ruby as Tink made her next attempt.

“Someone is going to choke one of these days, and then who will tend my bar?” She mused, swiftly catching the small chocolate before it could land perfectly in Ruby’s open mouth, and popped it into her own, crossing the room to flop down onto the couch next to Tink.

“Hey, I would have made that one!” Tink complained, shoving Emma on the shoulder lightly as she relaxed into the cushions, closing her eyes against the pounding in her head.

“And that would have made the score...what is it now, Ruby-8 million, Tink-1?”

Ruby huffed, affronted by Emma's assessment. “I’m actually getting the shit end of the deal here. She’s the one who gets to eat all the candy!”

“As much as I love mediating your endless nonsense,” Emma grumbled, “my head hurts. I was up all night with Regina, and I didn’t even get to see Henry, so I just came home.”

“Up all night...with Regina? Regina Mills?” Tink inquired; that was a statement she'd never expected to hear come from Emma's mouth.

“Do we know any other Reginas?” Emma snapped, then glanced at her apologetically. “I’m sorry. Yeah, we both happened to show up at Leila’s hearing, and —”

“Who’s Leila?” Tink interrupted promptly, looking between Emma and Ruby curiously. She had been out of town for about a week, only arriving home earlier this morning, and could tell that she had missed out on something important.

“Oh, I totally forgot to tell you!” Ruby cried, stretching her long limbs along the couch as she pulled a blanket down around her. “Some weird kid showed up in the bar Friday morning claiming to be Regina’s daughter, needing some papers signed or something. By Emma, too. I don't know, the whole thing was strange.”

Tink immediately sat up straighter with a small gasp. “Regina’s daughter came to find her?”

She rounded on Emma, a look of panic crossing her face. “How could you not have called to tell me that?”

“You knew Leila existed?” Emma exclaimed in an accusatory tone, “How could you not have told me?”

“I’m the only person in this town who knew Regina had a baby,” she responded coldly, “Not to mention the only person in this room who could have ever called herself Regina’s friend. I lived with her for four years while the two of you were all but running an amateur brothel in the basement.”

Emma cringed, knowing that she wasn’t entirely wrong. She and Ruby had gone a little wild in college, and while Tink was often partying right alongside them, she knew that she was more often at home studying, with her actual roommate, Regina.

“And now her daughter is back in her life? She must be so confused,” Tink murmured, looking across the room at neither Emma nor Ruby.

“Yeah, she’s confused alright.” Emma mumbled.

“But what do _you_ have to do with it?” Tink suddenly turned back to her, a fierce protectiveness of her oldest friend surging through her. She had always known of Regina’s feelings for Emma, though she’d had the good sense to never mention it. When Regina had suddenly pulled away from her and immersed herself into a life with Robin, Tinkerbell knew that their friendship was going to be left behind. But she had never stopped caring about her, even while living and working with perhaps the two people for whom Regina held the most disdain.

“That’s the part we can’t really figure out. Somehow, my name was listed as the other parent on her birth certificate, which is good enough in Massachusetts to gain partial custody, apparently. She was never adopted, blah blah...long story short, Regina and I now have temporary joint custody of Regina’s sixteen year old daughter.”

Every time she said it out loud, it sounded more ridiculous.

"Seems like it'd be a dream come true for you," Ruby pointed at Emma with one hand with a snort, tossing a piece of candy (this time a hard, brightly colored one) into her mouth with the other and chewed loudly. "After all, everyone knew how badly you wanted to get in Regina’s pants when we lived in Boston.”

“Not everyone!” Gasped Tink, looking at Emma in disbelief. “You had a thing for Regina? But you were so...”

“Slutty?” Ruby supplied with a laugh, ducking out of the way as Emma threw a pillow at her face.

“I did _not_ have a thing for her.” Emma clarified with a roll of her eyes. “She was hot, okay? She _is_ hot. No one could disagree with that.”

"Nobody cared about her much beyond that, _you_ included. She was in love with you! And you were a jerk to her. She deserves better than all this mess. And she deserves better than to have _you_ of all people tangled up in it with her."

"Hey! That's not fair at all. She didn't seem to mind being tangled up with me in our hotel room last night..." Emma smirked knowingly in Tink's direction, who glared at Ruby as she jumped up and went to high five her.

“Nice! You banged the Mayor?” Ruby praised, forcing Emma to move towards the middle of the couch so she could sit nearer to her friends. “Was it as good as I’ve imagined it would be?”

“You’re both disgusting,” Tink admonished, giving them both a dirty look. “And she’s engaged, you idiot.”

"We didn't sleep together. I just...I don't know, took care of her after she got drunk. It wasn't a big deal. She's...different... _more_ than I remember her being. We talked about some pretty deep stuff. She's kind of...amazing, actually."

“Bo-ring,” Ruby sing-songed, crossing over to the open doorway of her bedroom. “I’m going to take a nap. Someone come and get me when I need to start pouring drinks.”

“Your shift starts at 9:00!” Emma called after her, looking down at her watch for the time: 5:18. To most people, a nap would consist of thirty minutes to an hour of light sleep, but to Ruby, a nap could mean anywhere from four to six hours of hard, knocked-out dreaming. She shook her head, turning again towards Tink, drawing her knees into her chest.

“What the hell am I going to do, Tink? I didn't even know I'd hurt her all those years ago. And now I have _feelings_ about things. I want to make it right, I just don't know where to start.”

Tink shook her head sadly. This wasn't going to end well, and for the sake of her longest friendship, she hoped Emma had enough sense not to hurt the woman twice. "Have you told her how you feel?"

“Of course I did. I may have been an idiot back then, but after she opened up to me last night, there was no way I was going to let her go. I begged her not to leave, but she gave me some lame excuse about not having a choice and just... left me there.”

“Emma, I love you, but you really are an idiot. Have you never met her mother? She _doesn’t_ have a choice.”

"Nobody's mother has enough power to dictate a grown woman’s choices like that. She's the _mayor,_ for God's sake. If she really wanted to give us a chance, she would."

“Listen to me,” Tink implored, leaning closer so that she knew Emma was really paying attention to what she said. “If Cora Mills, for any reason, decided that she wants you dead by tomorrow afternoon at 3:00, you should expect to be dead tomorrow afternoon at 3:01. She’s extremely powerful and has her hands in _everything._ You’d do well not to underestimate her, or her control over Regina’s life.”

"But... an arranged marriage? That's so... medieval! That doesn't happen anymore. I just don't buy it."

"Let me explain something to you. When Regina realized she was pregnant, she was so terrified, she made herself sick. Almost to the point of having a miscarriage. I don't remember a whole lot about it, but I know when she started to show, she told me her mother threatened her about her weight. What do you think she would have done to an actual _baby_ when she came back from Europe? Especially because it would have interfered with a potential rich and powerful suitor?”

“Wow,” Emma breathed, closing her eyes and conjuring up the image of Regina lying next to her in the dark. She seemed so small, so soft. She didn’t have a hard time imagining her terrified, pregnant, and alone. “Is it... would it be really inappropriate of me... do you know who Leila’s father is?”

“Yes, it would be really inappropriate of you.” Tink shut down any further line of questioning immediately. “I’m not going to tell you anything else that Regina obviously hasn’t told you herself.”

"That's fair.” Emma conceded, changing the subject smoothly. “Do you think she's at least happy with Robin? Deep down? They seem to be... on the outside anyway."

“I don’t...really know,” she admitted with a sad smile. “I haven’t really spoken to Regina more than in passing since...well, I guess since I moved in here with you and Ruby. We just lost touch after we moved out of the house in Boston and started living our separate adult lives. I do know what Regina looks like when she’s putting on a front though, and I’ve seen a lot of that since she became Mayor.”

Emma looked down, her fingers plucking at the strings on the woven blanket Ruby had brought with her and deposited into Emma's lap. She had no idea what to think.

Tink continued, “I’m not saying Robin isn’t a perfectly nice guy. We’ve all known him for...how long now? At least ten years. He just...looks at her and speaks about her as if she’s his... property." She winced at the word, sighing at the frown her fellow blonde sported. "I hope he does at least love her.”

"But I could give her everything she needs. _I_ could love her," she insisted, tears pricking at the back of her eyes even as she attempted to blink them away. The night she had spent with Regina had changed everything for her. She couldn't imagine that Regina didn't feel the same way.

“Emma," Tinkerbell sighed patiently, as though explaining difficult mathematical concepts to a very small child. Emma hated that. "Regina had a huge crush on you from the tenth grade until we were in our mid-twenties. You never even looked her way until you and Ruby needed someone to split your townhouse with when you wanted to move off-campus, and she happened to be my choice of a roommate for our half of the house.”

“That’s not..." She frowned, rubbing her forehead in mild exasperation as she tried to recall their time together. "I remember hanging out with Regina all the time! We would always study together and then like...drink wine and stuff.”

“Translation: you needed to borrow Regina’s notes in order to pass, and conned her into giving them to you by offering to share cheap alcohol and your company with her.”

“God, you’re making me sound like such an asshole,” Emma complained. "But she was great when Henry was born, we...I don't know, bonded. Kind of."

“Well, you obviously meant enough to Regina that she still felt something for you after all this time. Did you actually think she was arguing with you just because she didn’t have anything better to do? You were paying attention to her, finally.”

"That's what she said too. I liked the negative attention she gave me better than the positive. I feel awful about it. I didn't know she was in love with me though, I swear. But after last night, I want that shot I didn't give her all those years ago. Do I chase her? I don't know what to do here."

"That's up to you. Tread lightly though, because I doubt she'd be receptive to cheating on her fiancé. And pushing her into something she's not comfortable with might just make her snap."

"Should I...I dunno, like bring her lunch at the office every day? I am a concerned, small business owner, after all. Or, I could play that part if I needed to..."

“Why don’t you just call her now?” Tink suggested, as though it were the simplest answer. Emma blanched.

“I can’t just _call_ her right now.” She felt her chest seize at the thought of hearing Regina’s voice. Or worse, if someone else answered. “At home? With _Robin_? What if he answers?”

“Well, he’s not going to hear that you have feelings for his fiancée over the phone. And since you apparently have joint custody of her daughter, it wouldn't be unreasonable for you to let her know you're back in town if she needs anything.”

“You’re totally right!” Emma brightened, standing up suddenly and rushing into the open kitchen to find her cell phone. “What would I do without you?”

“If that’s how you feel about me, you don’t pay me enough.” Tink shrugged, casually searching for the remote to turn on their communal television.

Emma ignored her with a smirk, turning away and leaning against the stove as she carefully scrolled through her list of contacts, hesitating briefly before choosing “Regina-Home”. She’d only had to call once before, when she hadn’t been able to reach her for a work issue through her office or on her cell phone, and she’d had to bribe Tink with an extra night off that week to get her to give up the number to her home.

Before she could press the button to place the call, she thought better of it. She knew that if Robin happened to answer, she's freeze up. No. Better to get to Regina directly, if possible. She swiftly changed the number to her cell, and pressed "call" before she could change her mind. The phone rang loudly in her ear, nearly drowned out by the pounding of her heart. After the third ring, she breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Regina’s voice.

“Hello?” The sound was like heaven, making her breath hitch ever so slightly.

“Hey, Regina," she began, before she spent too much time breathing into the phone awkwardly. Taking another breath, she decided to proceed, even if she wasn't sure what she was supposed to say. _What did Tink suggest again?_ They had joint custody, she wanted to help... "It’s...it’s Emma. Listen...”

  



	5. Chapter 5

 

As the couple finally entered the kitchen, Robin’s hand gently resting on the small of Regina’s back, they found Leila leaning over the stove with her face in one of the pots, inhaling the strong scent of the sauce with her eyes closed. Regina smiled. She was exhausted, stressed beyond measure, and trying desperately to hold herself together emotionally, but it all came down to the fact that her baby was standing in her kitchen, awaiting dinner. About that, at least, she was sure she could be happy.

Robin wrapped his arm around Regina's waist and gave her a squeeze, letting her know he was about to walk in front of her. She leaned against the door frame, arms folded gently across her chest, as he cleared his throat and moved one of the chairs across the hardwood floor.

“Smells good, doesn’t it?” Robin said quietly, startling the girl as he rounded her right shoulder.

Leila jumped dramatically, dropping the lid to the pot onto the floor behind her. A look of panic crossed her face as she gasped, completely forgetting that she was in a safe environment. As she turned around, she let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, it’s just you.”

Looking embarrassed, she turned from their gaze and crouched down to pick up the lid, placing it back on the pot harshly.

Robin cringed, running his hand through the back of his hair nervously. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn't. I’m just a little jumpy...new house and all." Leila shrugged dismissively, and gestured towards the bubbling, bright sauce. "This smells amazing, by the way."

Regina quickly crossed the kitchen and began rifling through the cabinets, pulling out four plates — in hopes that Emma would decide to join them, _after Regina called her_ — and that Robin wouldn’t realize she was setting places at the table for four.

“It’s just a quick little dinner. A salad and some angel hair pasta with a marinara sauce.”

“And your father’s famous meatballs!” Robin cried, aghast that Regina would forget his favorite part of any meal: the meat. “Luckily we had some in the freezer that we could thaw quickly.”

“I’m kind of a vegetarian,” Leila admitted, meeting Regina’s gaze across the room fiercely, daring her to have a problem with it.

"That's okay,” Regina assured smoothly, giving her daughter a gentle smile that reached her eyes, fondness evident, before returning her attention to the place settings, “I enjoy a more plant based diet as well. Robin and I usually prepare separate dishes when we eat together. From now on, when I cook for all of us, I’ll increase my half of the meal and share with you.”

Leila shrugged and accepted that with a thoughtful nod, hiding a small smile as she turned back to stirring the bright, bubbling pot of tomato sauce, simply to give herself a task while waiting for Regina to finish. Robin joined her quietly, drizzling olive oil over the pasta to toss it. He teased her under his breath so that Regina couldn’t hear, prompting her to shove him playfully in return, nearly causing him to knock over a warm silver pan.

Leila met Regina's gaze to the counter top where the chocolate cake she had prepared earlier rested. "Oh, I took this cake out of the oven a few minutes ago. The timer went off right when I walked in here."

"Oh!" Regina gasped, her eyes widening in embarrassment. "That was the reason we came into the kitchen in the first place. How could I have forgotten?"

"It happens," Leila smiled, forgetting Regina's odd behavior as she turned back to Robin to continue their conversation.

 _I must really be losing my mind._ Just as Regina placed the last set of silverware on the table, the shrill ring of the phone interrupted the light hearted conversation between her new little family. "Hmm, I wonder who that could be at this hour? If you'll both excuse me, I’d better take this."

As Regina swiftly retrieved her phone from the kitchen counter and stepped outside, the door creaking softly in its frame as it closed behind her, Leila turned to Robin with a quizzical glance, her eyes drifting from Regina’s retreating form to his easygoing smile. “Is she always so weird and...formal? It’s just us.”

He chuckled softly. “She’ll calm down eventually. Regina doesn’t adjust well to situations outside of her control."

Leila didn’t answer; instead, she walked over to the picture window through which she could see Regina resting gently on the swing across the yard, her legs folded beneath her with her head tilted back. Her heart thrummed in her chest as she observed her mother quietly for the second time today. She looked immensely more relaxed than she had a mere two minutes ago, and she wondered who could have such an immediate effect through a simple phone call.

 

\--------

 

Emma sighed, "I'm going to need some liquid courage for this, you know."

Tink laughed and shook her head, quickly shuffling behind the bar to pour Emma a shot of tequila, which was met with a hesitant grimace. "You're such a pansy. Just make the call!"

"Shut up. I can't help it if I'm nervous. Gimme." She downed it quickly, despite the distinct protest of her body after the previous night's consumption, shaking her head slightly from side to side afterwards, hoping it would make it get to her bloodstream quicker. If anything, she hoped it would aid in giving her the smallest amount of bravery to make this call.

"Just call, or I'm gonna do it for you," Tink warned, her index finger drifting significantly nearer and nearer to the open contact on the screen of Emma's phone.

"Fine." Emma grumbled, and knocked Tink's hand out of the way to place the call herself. She moved the earpiece to her head, listening to the first few rings. She heard the line connect and then go silent. "Hey Regina, it's...it's Emma. Listen, please don't hang up, I need to talk to you.”

More silence.

"I was just about to call you, actually."

"You were?" Emma looked up to Tink in surprise, who gave her an 'I told you so' smirk.

"Yes, I..."  Regina paused, not quite sure how to begin this conversation. "I made a cake."

Regina made her way down the deck stairs to sit on the swing, rocking gently and sighing audibly, waiting for Emma to mock her.

"A cake?"

She nodded, resting her head on the back of the swing, looking up at the darkening sky. "For Leila's birthday. I thought, since it was her first birthday... with us, that it was appropriate. But now I'm concerned that I'm pushing her a little too hard."

Emma smiled. "You're just excited, Regina. It's understandable."

"I'm terrified," she clarified bluntly, and immediately wished she could scoop the words back into her mouth. She was always a little more honest with Emma than she intended to be. She cleared her throat, "I think that perhaps she'd be a little more... comfortable with this evening if you'd join us for dinner."

"It's...it's not that I don't want to be there for the kid, or help you with her, it's just..." Emma hesitated, searching for the right phrase, before furrowing her brows quickly. "Wait, _you_ were going to call _me_? How did you know I came home from Boston today?"

 

Regina shrugged, switching the phone from one ear to the other. "It...didn't matter. If you were back I wanted to invite you. If you weren't..." She paused, deciding whether or not she should just be honest. "For whatever reason, talking to you puts me at ease where Leila is concerned. I think being around you does the same for her.”

Emma's heart clenched a little in her chest. The 'new' Regina, Mayor Regina, rarely opened up. She kept her hard-as-stone persona on display at all times. _This_ Regina, _her Regina_ , felt so much more approachable. Relatable. Vulnerable. And Emma desperately wanted to be the person Regina could relate to. The person she felt comfortable opening up to. _The person she could love._

“I tried to come after you this morning,” Emma admitted softly, changing the subject without warning.

“It’s for the best that you didn't,” Regina replied, murmuring softly to herself and turning her body away from the house as though it would shield the conversation from her nearby fiancé, despite the walls and space between them. “Because if you had, I don’t know if I would’ve been able to come home and face Robin today.”

“Didn’t you tell me he was out of town?” Emma questioned. Robin seemed to be gone more often than he was home, according to Tink, and Emma had _almost_ decided to take Regina up on her offer, but she wasn’t sure she could stand to be near that guy.

“He came home a day early.” Regina sighed. “And in any case, we are going to have to be able to parent Leila together, regardless of where Robin is at the time. I told you last night that you couldn’t do this halfway with us.”

"You told me a lot of things last night, Regina. Forgive me if I’m having a _little_ trouble remembering which ones I’m supposed to forget.”

“Emma.” Regina chastised, her heartbeat quickening in her chest, silently wishing things weren't so complicated. She couldn't talk about this again. “Will you come to dinner? For Leila."

Emma sighed. She knew she would never be able to say no to her, or to Leila. “I’ll be there in a little bit.”

 

\--------

 

Regina quietly walked back into the house, stopping to place her cell phone on the china cabinet to her right. She smiled faintly as Leila fumbled with the salad tongs, flipping various components into the air as they then landed on the floor. Robin laughed heartily and leaned down to pick up the pieces of lettuce. Leila giggled, swiping a piece from his fingers and plopped it into her mouth, crunching loudly and with her mouth open for effect. "I'm clumsy, but with great follow through."

Robin smirked, slurping up a piece of pasta dramatically. "Clearly."

She stood in the doorway, watching the two and how they interacted, as if they were old friends. Easy, comfortable, happy; something she wondered if she'd ever have with the girl. It wasn't fair. First Emma, now Robin. _Still invisible, even after all these years_. _Still trying too hard. Nothing changes._

Robin eyed her as she cleared her throat and frowned. "Who was on the phone?"

Regina straightened up, her face becoming a mask. "It was Emma Swan letting me know that she arrived into town earlier than she expected. She was checking in--regarding Leila."

Leila turned and looked at Regina, "I thought she wasn't coming back for a few more days."

With a nod in response, Regina ignored the hard stare Robin was giving her. "I'm not sure. Her circumstances changed. I... invited her over for dinner, actually."

Robin glared. Leila smiled. Regina shrugged.

"I thought she might like some cake at least. And perhaps that you might like to see her."

Leila grinned, but tried not to look too relieved at the same time. She might not have been comfortable with how hard Regina was trying to be the _Best Mom Ever_ , but she also didn't want to hurt her feelings. She'd never had someone try _so_ hard for her before. But Emma would be a good buffer. "I would like that. Thanks, Regina."

"Of course, dear. She'll be here soon."

She sighed, gesturing towards the table where all the dishes had been placed while she was on the phone. She smiled, pulled out her chair and sat primly at the head of the small kitchen table, gesturing for Leila to take a seat next to her.

"Thank you so much for finishing everything up. Shall we?"

Leila frowned. "But shouldn't we wait for Emma?"

Regina nodded; the girl was right. And ordinarily, she would advocate politeness, but she thought perhaps, just this once, she could sacrifice her manners for the sake of masking the tension rolling off of Robin in waves.

"She doesn't live very far away. I'm sure by the time you've filled your plate, she'll be here."

The first moments were fairly comfortable, and Robin was briefly distracted by the bowl of steaming hot Italian meatballs that Regina pushed closer to him. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence as everyone kept their eyes on their plate, however, Robin had had enough. Placing his fork onto his plate, he broke the silence.

"So, you _just_ got a call from Emma, coincidentally," Robin inquired, his tone a little too casual to be believable. There were times when Regina didn't mind his need to question her every move, but more often than not it irritated her beyond measure, "and yet the table is already set for four?"

Especially when she knew he had a valid point.

Before she could come up with a feasible response, she was saved by the doorbell sounding from a few rooms away. "That'll be Emma."

"That was fast," Robin commented, stabbing the spaghetti with his fork.

"What's your problem, dude?" Leila asked him, as Regina swiftly exited to answer the door, brushing her hand across the back of Leila's chair to reassure her. "Emma's here for me, not Regina."

"I don't have a problem with her," Robin answered smoothly, folding a crimson linen napkin across his lap and adjusting his silverware absentmindedly. "I just don't quite understand why all of a sudden she's here, in our lives, having dinner."

"You mean like I am? Suddenly here, in your life, having dinner?"

"Of course not! That isn't what I meant. It's just...your mom..." Leila glared pointedly, and he cowered a bit under her intense gaze. "Uh...Regina, we both have known Emma Swan for a long time. There's a history there. They don't usually get along very well."

"They seemed fine to me yesterday. But I guess I'm used to being with adults who don't get along very well."

"Just wait," Robin muttered, frowning.

 

\--------

 

Emma stood outside, shuffling her feet, anxiously waiting for the door to open. _Praying_ it was Regina or Leila and not Robin.

As the porch light flicked on and the knob began to turn, Emma jumped a little, fearing the worst.

It was Regina. In yoga pants and a see-through sweater. And there was something so beautifully eloquent about this woman dressed down. How does this human look so amazing in _everything_? She exhaled in relief, smiling brightly as her eyes shone.

They locked eyes.

"Hi," Emma breathed.

"Hello, Emma," Regina replied softly, and Emma thought perhaps she would never enjoy anything more than the sound of her name falling from Regina's lips.

They both stood completely still, neither making a move. _Staring_ at one another. Regina assumed that their previous evening's endeavors would have been somewhat of a fluke, a drunken slight. That Emma would remember who they were and their _rocky_ past and they'd resume their regular bickering. But as she looked into Emma's bright, green eyes and her heart raced as the seconds passed, she knew she was, in fact, seriously in trouble.

"So..."

"Oh, yes. Forgive me. Would you like to come in?"

"Well, that's what I'm here for..."

"Yes, I know, Emma. You're here for Leila."

"And you, Regina," Emma insisted.

"Emma, please." Regina exhaled, looking behind her to make sure she hadn't been followed, squeezing between the door and frame and stepping out onto the porch, closing it quietly behind her. "About last night. Can we just...forget about the things that were said? Just to get through this evening?"

Emma furrowed her brow in annoyance, opening her mouth to say something rude. But then she thought better of it, took a deep breath instead, and closed her eyes briefly. "For tonight, yes. But we do need to talk about it. Preferably alone."

"We can meet for coffee tomorrow afternoon if you'd like. Things are...tense here. Between Leila and me and with Robin, of course. He's none too happy that you're here." She looked down at the ground in defeat. "I haven't been doing anything right since you two showed up together in my office."

Emma's heart _throbbed_ and she immediately felt sorry for Regina. For a woman who was always so composed, always in control, everything that had happened must be stressful for her. Add in Robin and Emma was sure she had her hands full. She reached forward to touch Regina's chin, tilting her head up to look her in the eyes, sliding her hand to cup Regina's cheek. "It'll all work out, I promise."

A shaky breath escaped her as she met Emma's gaze again, stepping forward slightly and gently wrapping her fingers around Emma's hand. "I hope you're right."

She couldn't seem to keep her hands away from Emma now that she knew what her skin felt like beneath her fingers. That could become problematic, quickly.

"And if I'm wrong, we'll figure it out. Together. Okay? We're in this together."

Regina looked away again. "But why would you do that...for me? You don't _really_ know me, Emma."

She shrugged easily, sliding her hand from Regina's chin to rest against the side of her neck. "I think maybe that could change, don't you?"

Before she could answer, the door behind Regina swung open, causing the two to spring apart as though they'd been burned. Leila appeared with an impatient roll of her eyes. Emma smirked; she could have been Regina's twin in that moment.

"Not to break up this tender moment, _Moms_ , but Robin is slicing through his plate and his energy is murderous, so..."

Regina sighed, _perfect_. "Yes, of course. I apologize. I was just filling Emma in on the discussions I had with Robin earlier, so that she wasn't blindsided when she sat down to eat."

"Yeah, kid. She was just filling me in."

Leila scoffed and shook her head. "Yeah, _okay_. I don't care what you were _filling in_ , I just don't want to be with him alone anymore. Come on."

She spun on her heel with a dramatic huff, blonde curls bouncing behind her as she marched in the direction of the kitchen, expecting them to follow immediately. Emma coughed uncomfortably. "She's kind of a little bitch," shrugging as Regina shot her an exasperated glare. "Don't give me that look. She inherited _your_ snark." She laughed at Regina's indifference. "At least there's cake."

Regina retreated through the door frame with an annoyed hum, shaking her head and tracing Leila's path towards the table. Emma quickly stepped through and closed the door with a soft _click_. She couldn't help but watch the sway of Regina's hips as she walked away, her head tilting to the side in admiration.

Those _damn_ stretchy pants would be her undoing.

As she reached the doorframe to the kitchen, she could practically feel the tension in the air. Unsure whether she should continue any further, she leaned awkwardly against the frame, waiting for an invitation.

Regina nodded to her, shrugging lightly. "Robin, darling, you remember Emma Swan?" She placed her hand on the chair to her right, signaling to Emma she should sit next to her.

Emma took the only remaining seat at the table built for four, and realized quickly how screwed she was. The kid across from her, already staring into her soul, or so it seemed, and Regina and Robin on either side. Robin was clearly plotting how many different ways he could murder her without getting caught.

Yeah. She was in big trouble.

"Of course I do. Hello, Emma." He nodded to her, reaching out to shake her hand before promptly looking to his plate once again.

"Hey, Robin. Good to see you again." She reached forward to scoop some pasta clumsily onto the dish in front of her, her eyes widening with joy. "Oh my god, Regina, are these your dad's famous meatballs?"

Regina beamed despite herself, her brow furrowing in confusion. "How do you know about them?"

Robin stabbed a tomato from his salad, glaring as Emma scooped five of the delicious creations onto her mound of pasta. He didn't particularly care for sharing.

Emma twirled a few noodles around her fork, using her spoon to catch them expertly. "Don't you remember? It was like... sophomore year, during finals. We were all totally fried one weekend from studying too much, and your dad had a convention in Boston, so he stayed at your place with Tink. And he taught us all to make his famous meatball recipe and let us drink Italian wine with him. It was awesome."

"Come to think of it, I _do_ remember that," Regina smiled, holding back a small chuckle. "In fact, I distinctly remember you getting so full and so _drunk_ that you passed out on my couch for practically two days. We had to drag you to your Western Civ final that following Monday. Which, of course, you failed miserably."

"Hey, that's college. It got me that delicious recipe though, didn't it?" Emma smirked, winking at Leila, who was observing the two women quietly while enjoying her dinner, a soft smile her only offer in response. She had been right; it was all just as amazing as the aromas had promised. She wasn't quite sure what was happening between Emma and Regina tonight, but she did know that it felt warm and happy. Almost like a real family.

Robin noticed it too, she thought, feeling his discomfort palpably threatening to break the nostalgic bubble surrounding her mothers. She liked him well enough, but he seemed like the kind of guy who didn't like being excluded from anything.

"Speaking of Boston, Emma," he interrupted, directing the conversation in a way that allowed him to participate, "How's Graham? We missed him on the camping trip, he usually never misses an opportunity to get outdoors with his friends."

Emma smiled tightly. "Yeah, well, he chose this month to spend with his child. I assume he decided Henry was more important than a party in the woods with a bunch of overgrown frat boys."

She hadn't spoken to Robin in more than passing for the last several years, and now she remembered why.

Leila looked up, mid-bite. "Who's Graham?" Everyone's eyes immediately went to her.

Emma looked to Regina, begging her to explain so as not to make things _more_ awkward between she and Robin. Regina nodded curtly, swallowing her bite of pasta, wiping her mouth, and then smoothed her napkin back onto her lap. "Graham is the father of Emma's son, Henry. He and Robin were in the same fraternity. We've all known each other for... quite some time."

Leila scrunched her brow and turned to look Emma directly in the eyes. "You have a kid and didn't bother to tell me?"

Emma's eyes grew wide, a look of panic crossing her face. "I...uh..."

Robin chuckled condescendingly. "Don't feel bad, Leila. Seems to be the common theme of the evening, doesn't it?"

Regina slammed her hand down on the table, and Robin matched her fierce gaze, their eyes locked in a silent, furious conversation. " _Enough_."

After a few seconds, he broke the contact, turning his glare back down to this plate. She readjusted herself, bringing back her professional, tight mask. "Leila, I'm sure with all that's happened in the last twenty-four hours or so, it simply slipped Emma's mind. She'd probably love to tell you about Henry when we're less concerned about _your_ well being and getting you settled, as he's in Boston with his father. You'll meet him soon."

"Thanks, Regina," Emma sighed gratefully, not quite sure where to look, so she focused her gaze on the plate in front of her before looking up to find Leila staring at her intently. "I didn't want you to feel like you couldn't have my full attention if you needed it. At least, for right now."

"You mean, until your son comes home and I don't matter anymore."

"Leila, honey," Regina interjected, saving Emma once again. "Emma didn't do anything wrong, she's not...she might have joint custody, but she's not..."

"My mother?" Leila scoffed, turning and nailing Regina with a sharp glare. "Yeah well, neither are you."

"Stop that!" Emma insisted harshly, and Leila actually cowered, which she rarely did. This dinner was quickly escalating out of control, and Emma knew there was only so much more tension they could all handle.

Emma looked directly at Leila, daring her to utter another word, start another fight, pick on Regina in some way. "Okay. Good." She looked back down to her plate, twirling the pasta onto her fork and plopping the bite into her mouth.  At the perturbed, expectant look on Leila's face, Emma quickly swallowed, squirming in her seat as she was clearly not going to get out of an explanation. "Well, it's not a terribly interesting story. I was pregnant with Henry when I was in college. We'd thrown this crazy party and…" She started to continue in that general direction, but as Regina cleared her throat and kicked her under the table, Emma knew she should just get to relevant details about her actual kid instead of dabbling too heavily in their early college years together.

"Right, well, he's ten and the way to his heart is through baseball and fantasy books. He spends a bulk amount of time in the summers with his dad so that he can live here and go to a better school. He'll be back in Storybrooke in a few weeks and I'm sure he'll be excited to meet you."

Leila twirled a few pieces of pasta around her fork, glancing up at Emma casually with a shrug. "Is he a Sox fan?"

"Of course. He was actually at a game yesterday, otherwise we could have met up with them or something."

She nodded her approval. "Good. Me too. At least I'll have something in common with someone in this town."

Emma shifted uncomfortably. This whole _meal_ was uncomfortable. _The things she did for a pretty woman._

After everyone adjusted and let go of the stress that permeated the room, conversation continued as civilly as possible while they all enjoyed the rest of their meal. Leila and Emma went for seconds on the stove at the same time, Emma nudging her with her hip as they fought over the serving spoon. Leila kicked her on the back of the calf as she made her way back to the table and smirked at the soft 'ouch' she heard Emma whine under her breath.

They were all interrupted when Robin's pager buzzed on the counter.

He jumped up immediately, lunging for the device to stop its ringing, and Regina rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest automatically. "Who is _that_ , darling?"

"It's just...my father," he admitted, raking a hand through his hair and allowing it to fall back into place. "I'd better call him."

"You do that." Regina agreed, her voice somehow both cool and ambivalent. Robin simply exited the room with his cell phone in hand, taking both devices outside to return the page.

"A pager? Really?" Emma snorted, leaning back against the stove while Leila got comfortable in her chair once more. "Who even uses those other than doctors anymore?"

"I'm sure there's an important reason," Regina answered flippantly with a wave of her hand in the direction of the patio door through which Robin had disappeared. "There always is."

 

\--------

 

Robin reemerged from the porch about ten minutes later, a glum look on his face. Regina immediately perked up, knowing already what he'd been told. "What did your father have to say, Robin?"

"He needs me to go out of town for emergency business. There's a client...he's insisting it must be taken care of tonight. Probably into the wee hours with the time difference."

Emma cracked a small smirk as she promptly kept her face buried in her plate. He was about to be in _so_ much trouble.

"I see." Regina looked up slowly from her food and gave him _the_ look.

Robin flinched. "I should be back by the end of the week at the latest. I'm sorry."

"Did you remind your father that you just arrived back home?"

Robin sighed, gathering everyone's plates, walking slowly to the sink in defeat, turning the faucet on as he began to rinse them quietly in the sink. Regina got up, smiling gently and gesturing at Leila to stay put as she started to join him. He began arranging the dishes neatly in the sink— just the way Regina liked them. "Of course I did. He said that my week away was play, and that I need to come back into the real world where my actual responsibilities lie."

Regina accepted the rinsed dishes as he handed them to her, placing them neatly into the open dishwasher below her. "I disagree. There are no responsibilities in the corporate world greater than being home with your family."

"He doesn't see it that way. And he's my boss. I cannot defy his order, you know that. It's not as though he knows... that _our_ family has grown tonight."

Regina's eyes widened, almost terrified. "And he won't. Not until things have settled down. Do you understand?"

"What do you think hiding her is going to help, Regina? And don't forget that as soon as my father knows...so will your mother."

At this reminder, Regina gripped the edge of the marble countertop, her knuckles turning white from the pressure. "This is something you must allow _me_ to handle. In my own way, and on my own time. She's _my_ daughter."

"Sure." He scoffed, brusquely drying his hands on a soft kitchen towel as he placed the last plate on the bottom rack of the dishwasher. "And _my_ job is something that _I_ have to handle. On my own, _tonight_. It's not like we planned for _your_ daughter to be here."

As Regina's eyes narrowed to angry slits, Leila turned in her chair to glare at him too. _How dare he_ — she didn't ask to be living there. Didn't ask for a new step-father or a mother or...another mother. She opened her mouth to speak up indignantly, but closed it when Emma gently placed her palm onto Leila's clenched fist. She shook her head slightly, a soft warning to stay out of this particular conversation.

Regina could have argued with him further, but in the end, he would be leaving for the foreseeable future and it didn't seem worth her energy. She knew that he was a good man; he was just reacting to their new situation. It was only fair. He'd been given very little time to adjust, so there was bound to be a little hostility.

She cut her eyes to the side; just seeing the brief silent conversation between Emma and Leila, and as Robin wrapped an arm around her waist to draw her into his embrace, her head spun from trying to keep up with all the emotions she felt for each beautiful person in the room with her. He brushed a kiss against her forehead before dropping his mouth to hers for a lingering goodbye kiss.

It had always startled her, the way he could express physical affection to her in the midst of an argument. It was as though he needed that connection between them before he could allow himself to leave. This time, though, she felt... on display. Not only because of the new presence of Leila, but also Emma. She could practically feel the irritation rolling off of her in their direction.

 _Don't raise suspicion, you'd show him affection if Emma wasn't here,_ she reminded herself. _He loves you, and you love him_ _— enough...this will all pass, in time._

He squeezed her close briefly, then let go and turned in the direction of the others at the table with an apologetic smile. "I apologize for running out just after dinner Emma, but there's an issue I need to resolve for work."

Leila rolled her eyes, and Emma kicked her under the table. She forced a smile. "No problem. It was good seeing you."

"Likewise," he returned easily, his face a mask. He turned to Regina with an easy smile as he backed away slowly towards the door, retrieving his cell phone from the counter on the way. "I'll let you know when I land, okay?"

"Good." Regina smiled, a thin, tight-lipped version of her real smile. "Have a safe flight."

Emma scoffed internally. _This_ was the guy Regina chose? _No, this was the guy Cora chose_. She had to remind herself of that, or she thought surely her head would explode in frustration.

Before walking out of the room he stopped, remembering that he should probably say some sort of goodbye specific to Leila. _It'll take some getting used to_. "I'm sorry I won't be here for your first night, Leila. We'll...do something fun when I get back, okay? I'll bring you back a present from Paris."

Leila smiled briefly. He was kind of a dick sometimes, had a problem with temper tantrums, wasn't fond of Emma, and she wasn't sure about the whole 'family' dynamic just yet, but she didn't _hate_ him. She'd certainly been around worse. "Sounds like a plan. See you later."

They all took a moment to readjust themselves after his departure. Not knowing whether the elephant in the room should be addressed or dropped, and as the sound of the front door closing behind him reached their ears, Leila looked to her mother, her features screwed up in confusion.

"Listen, Regina, I don't hate the guy or anything...but, I mean, that was weird, right?" She looked at Emma for support, who simply shrugged in response, an ambivalent look on her face. "People don't just leave without any luggage to get on a plane and go to work at 7:45. Right?"

"Robin works for his father," Regina explained, turning her back to them to scrub down the sink after Robin had hastily washed their dinner dishes. _"_ And whenever he calls, he must drop everything and do what he says. The company jet will be waiting for him, and I'm sure there's a packed suitcase in his car. This happens fairly often."

" _I'm_ no expert on family dynamics or anything...but doesn't that end after you turn eighteen? Or is that just an illusion they tell us so we'll be obedient?"

Emma stifled a laugh and choked on her sip of water and received a disapproving glare from Regina that left her, well, just a little turned on.

Regina gave Leila a firm nod. "It's different depending on your background, I think. Sometimes when your family has a lot of wealth and power it's difficult to get out from under their thumb."

"Ew." Leila crinkled her nose in disgust, shuddering slightly. "I would never want to live that way."

Regina smiled sadly. _I never wanted this life for you either_. She cleared her throat softly. "I can assure you, dear, it's quite unpleasant."

Emma's heart clenched once more, and she yearned to cross the room, close the space between them, and fold Regina into her arms in a loving embrace. She may not have understood what Regina's relationship with Robin truly meant, but she did know the way she felt about Cora, and the weight that had been resting on Regina's shoulders since childhood. She looked from Leila to Regina, a small smile suddenly replacing her frown. "Hey, it's just us now, right?"

Regina's heart began to race as she realized that Emma was right. She had invited Emma to dinner to make Leila more comfortable on her first night at home, but she hadn't yet considered what would happen if not for Robin standing between them, literally.

"I suppose so, yes."

Leila looked from one woman to the other, not quite sure what was transpiring between them. She did know, however, that she felt like somewhat of a third wheel. Not necessarily in a bad way, but she was adept enough at reading situations to feel that she should give them some space. Faking a dramatic yawn, adding in an exaggerated stretch for good measure. "Well, I'm pretty tired, so...I guess I'm gonna go up to my room now."

Panic flashed across Regina's face, and Emma's eyes widened in horror. Simultaneously, they cried, "No!"

Leila paused, midway from standing from her chair at the table, to look at them both in skeptical amusement. "Why not?"

"Because..." Emma faltered, turning to Regina for assistance. For as much as she had insisted they needed to discuss their situation in private, she was suddenly too aware of the possibility looming in front of them. And unfortunately, it seemed that Leila was becoming aware that there was at least something between the two of them that needed to be addressed. "Because —"

"It's our first night together," Regina interrupted quickly, stepping closer to the two of them. "We could...watch a movie, perhaps?"

"I'm pretty sure we'll get plenty of time to spend together," Leila joked, casually striding from the kitchen and in the direction of the family room. She got the feeling that this was the least occupied room of the house, which was surprising to her.

It was cozy, but not stifling. The furniture was handmade (a pastime of Regina's father, she'd been told) with beautifully stained oak, and the soft leather couches were so plump and welcoming, she felt in danger of sinking into them forever.

A large, high-quality television was mounted to the wall opposite the seating area above a fireplace that she thought would probably feel nice when the cold of winter set in, and in her head she imagined playing old movies and lounging in front of the warmth of a burning fire.

It seemed, though, that all of this comfort was more for show than anything else. Leila intended to change that.

Just as she had expected, Regina was following closely behind her, and then Emma right behind Regina. They were nothing if not predictable. "You're right," she said, looking a little defeated and yet also a little relieved. Leila couldn't yet decipher between the two. "We do have plenty of time, and we've all had a long few days. You're welcome to relax in your room, but please don't think we don't want you to stay with us."

Leila smiled. It might be nice to spend time with them both. Even if she was getting sleepy. Her nap had done little but make her _more_ tired. Probably because she'd never slept on anything so soft or inviting before. She leaned against the back of the couch and shrugged her agreement, stifling a laugh as both women visibly relaxed. She didn't know what exactly was going on with them, but she could definitely have some fun with it. "Where is your movie collection?"

"In the study, on the shelves across from my desk." As Leila quickly darted out of the room, Regina smiled at Emma. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I think we're okay."

And it was true. Regina didn't know if it was the presence of Emma that made things easier with Leila, but she was surprised to find she was willing to navigate those waters on her own. Emma, however, simply flopped down onto the couch, stretching her legs out to rest on the coffee table as though it was something she did all the time. "Are you kidding? Movie nights are my favorite."

Regina nodded and sat in the adjacent recliner, not wanting to be _too_ close. _At least_ _,_ _not yet_.

"What am I going to do instead, go home and sit around by myself, sad because I miss my kid?"

An image of Emma doing just that painted itself behind Regina's eyes, and it pained her. She shook her head and folded her legs beneath her to get comfortable.

"I know," she murmured, "but we did both have a...very late night last night, so..."

Their eyes locked once more, and Emma felt suddenly much warmer. Several replies came to her lips, but she was pretty sure she heard Leila moving back in their direction. For someone so tiny, the kid sure could make some noise.

The girl arrived moments later, Blu-ray Disc in hand. "I had a hard time choosing one. Do you have every movie ever made in there?"

Regina beamed proudly, reaching out for the one that Leila had picked. "Good choice." As she tossed the case onto Emma's stomach with expert precision, she grinned at the loud 'umph' and then turned to look at the girl with a tender, warm, nod. "It's a classic."

Emma groaned as she launched herself forward and up from the couch, patting her stomach as she crossed the room to load the disc into the player. "You can't stuff me with meatballs and spaghetti and then expect me to do things for you." She turned and glared at Regina playfully, who smugly shrugged and curled deeper into the chair as though it were her personal throne. "You could just as easily have done that yourself."

"You were closer," Regina responded automatically as she gestured to Leila, who was settling in at the opposite end of the sofa from Emma. "Will you please pass me that blanket? My feet are a little cold."

" _Women_ ," Emma grumbled under her breath as she returned to her place, nearly getting slapped by the fabric of the throw blanket as Leila tossed it to Regina. "Why are they always complaining about cold feet?"

"Well, would you like to come and..." She immediately remembered who _else_ was in the room and blushed furiously as the girl turned to eye her suspiciously. _Stop it. Do not flirt with Emma Swan._ "...feel how ice cold they are for yourself? Or will you just take my word for it and shut up?"

Leila rolled her eyes and focused intently on the television screen. She smiled as the opening credits rolled, visions of Reno and the 80's flew by and the familiar, happy nostalgia that this movie brought overcame her.

Emma's brow furrowed in confusion. "What is this?"

Both turned at looked at her in complete disbelief. Leila asked cautiously, "Have you...never seen _Sister Act_?"

"Uh...should I have?"

"Yes." Regina answered definitively while never taking her eyes away from the screen, and she reached for a remote on an end table to dim the lights.

"Woah..." Leila whispered, turning to look around the room and then at Regina, who was tapping her foot and swaying just slightly in her chair to the opening number of Deloris Van Cartier singing in the casino. She'd never seen something so... _fancy_. Nor had she seen someone so oblivious to how fancy her shit was. It was a weird feeling. A cool one, to be part of this world now, but still weird.

Regina caught the girl looking at her out of the corner of her eye and shot her a wink and Leila turned away with a content smile.

This could be an every night thing.

And warmth she'd never felt before surged through her and a sting of tears came to her eyes. This was what home felt like. With Leila. And maybe even with Emma.

 

\--------

 

"Hey! That's McGonagall!" Emma shouted, turning to smile excitedly at Regina.

"Maggie Smith?" Regina enquired, confused by the outburst.

"No, McGonagall. From Harry Potter. Have you never seen those movies?"

"Oh," Regina smiled softly and turned back to watch the movie. "I actually haven't. I did love the books, though. That's perfect casting for her character."

Emma gulped and snuck another glance at Regina, who had just expertly twirled her hair into some sort of elegant twist, exposing the back of her neck. She was gorgeous, completely intoxicating to be around, _and_ she was a nerd, too?

It fucking figured. Emma had found the perfect woman, and she was about ten years too late.

She was startled by a sudden, quiet snore from somewhere near her hip. Not even fifteen minutes into the movie, Leila had begun to slide down the couch, her eyes drooping heavily. Now, she was stretched out entirely, her feet hanging off of one end and her unruly blonde curls strewn across Emma's lap.

Her head was pressed up against the outside of Emma's hip, and Emma had to admit that she didn't mind the warmth it provided. She was a _boy_ mom, which meant she rarely had a kid to snuggle with anymore. He was too cool to lay on his mom these days. It was nice, but it also made her miss Henry like crazy.

"I can't believe how comfortable she is with you," Regina commented softly, staring at the two of them warmly. "I didn't think she cared much for physical contact."

"Well, she's sleeping," Emma reasoned, and grinned at the little snore Leila let out, proving her point. "It's a little different when she's awake." Regina nodded with a long sigh.

"You'll get there with her, Regina. It won't be like this forever." She ran her fingers through the girl's hair absentmindedly as she turned back to the TV. "I really like this."

Regina looked to her once more, her head resting softly against the back of the chair. She felt so much more relaxed than usual, and it was making her want to fall asleep right along with Leila. "The movie?"

Emma hummed, obviously comfortable with the curls and how to untangle them as the girl slept. "Sure."

Regina felt a sudden longing to be nearer to them both, but logically knew that it would be better to keep her distance. She may have broken boundaries between them last night, but she wanted this new... comfort... to last.

She had thought last night was a fluke when Emma didn't come after her in the hotel, one that she'd never have to worry about repeating again. And yet here they were, the next night, still very much in each other's presence. She closed her eyes, a gentle, content sigh escaping her. "Me too."

Several minutes passed in comfortable silence as the movie continued in the background, like a soundtrack to their evening. It was funny, but Emma was enjoying watching Regina enjoy it more than anything. She felt a sudden surge of affection for Regina at a particularly adorable burst of laughter, so loud and happy that it woke Leila with a start.

She groaned, stretching all of her limbs and cringing as her shoulders cracked. She sat up blearily, turning to an amused Emma in confusion.

"You passed out," Emma explained. Leila nodded slowly, clearing her throat, and leaned towards Regina.

"Regina?" She questioned, her voice cracking.

"Mhm?" Her mother replied softly.

"Would you mind...could we switch places? My back is killing me and usually stretching out helps."

"Of course." She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and lifted herself out of the chair easily. "Would you just like to call it a night and sleep in your own bed?"

"No, can we just stay here?" Leila asked as she stumbled into the armchair, kicking out the footrest, fully extending the back so she could stretch out completely. "Much better."

"We can stay," Regina assured, getting comfortable on the couch opposite Emma, but a soft snore indicated that Leila had already fallen back to sleep. She chuckled and smiled at Emma. "That was fast."

"It's good that she's comfortable." Emma murmured. "And that she can obviously fall asleep anywhere."

"Should we try to move her?" Regina inquired uncertainly, not sure what the protocol for this situation was. "I've never had a child fall asleep in my home before."

Emma smiled softly, placing her hand on Regina's foot on top of the blanket to comfort her. "I promise you don't need to worry about her. She's good at making herself at home and from the snoring she's clearly content. Just let her be until morning."

"Thank you, Emma. For being here for us." She leaned over and clasped the hand over her foot, squeezing it tightly, rubbing her thumb over Emma's knuckles. "I wouldn't be able to do this without you."

Emma inhaled deeply at Regina's touch, never breaking eye contact, hoping the moment would never pass. "I...there's nowhere I'd rather be right now. I really mean that."

Regina smiled in that brilliant, beautiful way she did. "I know you do. I'm...glad you came tonight."

Emma bowed her head in remorse, taking a deep breath, knowing she needed Regina to understand what had happened the night before. That the argument they'd shared that led Regina to shut herself down wasn't fair. "Regina, about last night...I'm sorry for what I said."

Regina stilled as her stomach dropped. She'd hoped she would have more time before this conversation. More time to collect her thoughts, come up with a game plan. She needed more than a few hours before laying it all out on the line like this. "Please, Emma. Please don't."

Emma shook her head in defiance. "No, you need to know. I'm sorry for forcing you to come up with answers I had no right to demand from you. I don't want anything from you that you aren't capable of giving. I just want you."

"Even if we can only be friends?"

Emma's face fell. If only she weren't too late. If only she hadn't been a stupid child. If only she'd known. "Especially if we can only be friends."

Regina sighed. "I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t...want more than that. I've always wanted more than you were willing to give. And now, I'm not in the position to _have_ anything."

"I know. I'm so sorry, Regina. For taking our chance from you."

"We were just kids. You didn't take anything from me."

Emma nodded, reluctantly agreeing with her, shrugging. She wanted to say more, but the woman had already turned back to watch the movie. The moment was over.

 

\--------

 

It must have been during that ambiguous time somewhere between night and morning when Emma awoke to a darkened room, the soft glow of the television the only illuminating light. There were gentle snores still coming from the direction of the armchair, but there was also now the warm weight of a soft body pressed against her.

Regina had fallen asleep in almost the exact position Leila had hours earlier. Gently resting her cheek on her splayed out hand, her fingers curled along the seam of Emma's jeans on the inside of her thigh. Had she not looked so content, so peaceful, so utterly, _devastatingly_ beautiful, she might have risked moving her.

But Emma knew something like this might never happen again. And what harm was it doing? Regina sought her out in her sleep. That was harmless. Innocent. But as Regina tensed her fingers, digging slightly into the hem as if trying to find an anchor in her sleep, Emma knew her own body was thinking anything but innocent thoughts.

And yet, this magnificent creature was using her as a sense of comfort, as a savior, as a protector in the dark. And there was nothing more incredible than that.

Emma wasn't sure how it was possible that Regina had become so important to her in the less-than-twenty-four hours since they'd been together in Boston. Which led her to believe that perhaps she'd had these feelings all along, lying dormant beneath all their barbs and banter. She knew now, though, that there was no return journey from this. She was falling for Regina Mills, fast and hard and without abandon.

She also knew that any pursuit of Regina would come at a fairly high price. There was a lot at stake considering... well, _everything_ . Not only did she have a fiancé in the way, but also a terrifyingly controlling mother that Emma knew Regina would likely never be able to defy. But it was obvious that if she _could_ , Regina would choose Emma in a heartbeat. And it was this knowledge that allowed hope to blossom in Emma's chest, rapidly and with little care for reason. Even if she couldn't be with her romantically, she was determined to be the person to fill that void in her heart.

A few errant strands of dark, silky hair fell into Regina's face, fluttering in and out with each puff of deep, even breathing. Emma smiled, reaching out to tuck the loose locks behind Regina's ear. She had certainly never felt anything this strong for anyone before. She allowed her hand to trace down the side of Regina's face, dragging lightly over her shoulder and down to settle somewhere near her ribs. A sweet, content sigh escaped her in her sleep and she unconsciously moved in closer to Emma in response to her touch.

She had spent the previous night kissing Regina in the most _intoxicating_ places, and yet, these simple touches made her heart so full in comparison. This felt natural. Uncomplicated. _Right._

If she were truly honest with herself, she could admit that she'd been too afraid to let anyone into her life since she'd had Henry. Being a mother had changed her perspective on... well, pretty much everything. Anyone who could be good for her had to also be good enough for him. And this Regina, this woman trying to catch up on sixteen years of motherhood, just might be right for both of them.

But then, there was Robin.

Emma felt a sudden, overwhelming wave of guilt wash over her at the thought of the man who'd rushed out of there earlier, who obviously loved Regina. Sure, he hadn't reacted well to being in Emma's presence, but she wouldn't have expected anything more from him. She was the mother of his best friend's child, and it was inevitable that Graham's friends wouldn't particularly care for the woman who had ripped him away from bachelorhood with a baby, and then moved that baby four hours away to Storybrooke. _God, if he only knew what I'm feeling for the woman he loves...he'd hate me even more._

She wanted to try with Regina. She knew that there was no guarantee that it would work out, but she so desperately wanted the chance she had missed before. It felt... inevitable. Like their lives were meant to intersect.

But first, something had to change. She couldn't be with Regina if she remained engaged to someone else. So for now, she would be her friend. She'd allow these tender moments, of course, but only when initiated by Regina. She would not take advantage of the woman or her circumstances. This was how it had to be.

 

\--------

 

Hours later, Leila awoke with a stiffness in her neck and a tingling in her arms, but she was surprised to find that it was still the most comfortable she had been in years. The morning sun appeared through the window behind sheer, soft curtains and she squinted at the clock on the wall across from her. 8:30. _Too early for summer_.

She tilted her head from side to side, loosening her muscles, and smiled at the sight of Emma and Regina curled around one another on the couch.

Emma had slumped down, her legs tucked beneath her, and her upper body rested on top of Regina's, whose head was being supported by Emma's lap. They were the picture definition of yin and yang, and Leila almost wished she had a camera to capture the moment of peace before, inevitably, they woke up and continued to pretend they meant less to each other than they truly did.

She might not have known them for very long, but she wasn't oblivious. There was _something_ so _obvious_ between them, even if they were loath to admit it. She assumed a lot of that had to do with Regina, and her clearly conflicted emotions about her engagement to Robin. She _said_ she cared for him, and that he was a good man. Those were both obvious facts, and Leila couldn't argue with that. But she hadn't yet heard Regina speak to him or about him with very much passion, which is how she'd always imagined one should when talking about the love of their life. And why would she marry him if she didn't feel that way? The whole thing needed a little more investigation.

And if she was going to be spending an abundance of time with the two of them, perhaps she could have a little fun with it after all.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

Leila sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her bed, wiggling in place as she danced to the classic rock that bellowed from the iPhone next to her, barely visible amidst the piles of neatly folded clothing that surrounded her. Regina had remained true to her word not long after their arrival together in Storybrooke; she wanted to be able to reach Leila at any time, and one morning the new, sleek phone had been waiting on her nightstand when she woke up. It had three numbers programmed into it: Regina, Emma, and Robin.

For the two weeks that she'd lived with her mother, they had settled into an easy routine. Robin had only returned home once in that time, and Leila had to admit that she didn't mind the femininity reigning over the house in his absence. There were several late-night movies played in the now cozy family room, as their interactions were made infinitely easier by the distraction of the fiction playing out before them.

She woke each morning to the strong smell of coffee drifting enticingly up the stairs, coaxing her down through the swinging door to the kitchen, where Regina, endearingly predictable, would pour her a mug of the steaming brew at 8:15, like clockwork. For the first few mornings, Regina had laid out an enormous breakfast spread in her effort to provide everything she thought Leila could possibly need: fresh honey, croissants, yogurt, fruit salad, and what Leila assumed was an assortment of muffins and scones from Granny's diner. She didn't have the heart to tell Regina that her rising before 10:00 on any summer morning was an anomaly and that she rarely awoke in time to see breakfast.

Thus, it had become customary to accept the brightly patterned coffee mug wordlessly and drop into what had become "her" seat, spreading butter smoothly across the top of a croissant while Regina joined her at the head of the table.

She offered the same easy smile to Leila each morning, her hair twisted messily atop her head, and her face smooth and free of makeup or worry lines as she gently unfolded the _Storybrooke Mirror_ and began reading the daily news.

They sipped their coffee in companionable silence (for which Leila was admittedly a little grateful) until Regina inevitably needed to retreat upstairs and dress for work to meet her strict departure time of 8:45. It seemed that her mother wasn't particularly vocal in the morning, only finding her voice after she had returned from her bedroom, dressed to the nines with a sudden, unnatural bounce and shine to her hair that Leila knew couldn't have been achieved in the ten minutes it took her to dress up and become Mayor Mills. She told herself it must be some sort of magic, and internally mused that whatever gave Regina that effortless _je ne sais quoi..._ well, she hoped it was genetic.

"Don't forget that I'll be taking a half-day today, dear, so I'll be home around —"

"Noon, I know, you told me." Leila sighed, leaning against the door frame to the kitchen as she watched Regina descend the staircase while absentmindedly fastening the back of one of her earrings. The next step was always to pull some alarmingly high heels from the closet in the foyer, all the while continuing her monologue as though Leila hadn't interrupted.

"Yes, I'll be home at noon, and perhaps then we might...go out for lunch? I know you like to spend your days lounging about The Rat Hole —"

" _Rabbit_ Hole."

"— with Emma, but I was hoping to persuade you to —"

"You don't need to make an appointment with me, Regina." Leila smirked as Regina checked her image one last time in the mirror just next to the front door. She sat at the top of the entryway stairs; she usually followed along as she made her way out of the door in the morning, as she found it was easier to let Regina say what she needed to say according to her routine. "You don't have to be the Mayor for another..." She glanced at the ornate clock on the opposite wall. _8:43._ "Two minutes."

Regina glanced at the clock too, then tilted her head with an inquisitive look at her daughter. "So, lunch?"

Leila smiled. "It's a date."

Regina nodded once and offered a prim smile before turning on her heel and unlocking the door. She pulled it open smoothly and with a simple " _See you at noon!"_ tossed over her shoulder, as she strode purposefully towards the car, the door to the mansion softly closing behind her.

Leila waited patiently for the sound of the engine turning over and sighed knowingly, plodding down the short flight of stairs to retrieve the forgotten cell phone on the side table next to the door. A few moments later, the doorknob squeaked as it turned and the door inched open, just enough for Leila to wordlessly place the phone into Regina's outstretched hand, which she took graciously with a small, sheepish smile.

She leaned gently against the door as it closed with a soft, safe _click_ and smiled before making her way through the (still) overwhelmingly huge home towards her bedroom. She chuckled at the thought of her mother as the sound of her departure faded away.

 _Like clockwork_.

As she crossed the threshold to her room, which was slowly becoming more and more _hers_ (Regina had paled at the addition of some of her antique horror film posters alongside the impressionist paintings on the walls, evoking a harsh contrast that clearly perturbed her, but she had ultimately let go,) she briefly contemplated returning to bed for a small nap. She had a few hours of beautiful solitude at her disposal, but the sight of the wicker laundry basket placed near the foot of her bed stopped her in her tracks. Somehow, Regina must have transferred the clothes from the dryer and brought them up to Leila's room before leaving for work. She shook her head with a small smirk and settled in on the floor.

She'd found enjoyment in folding the clothes right out of the dryer. She had to admit that she liked the way they smelled ( _like her mom_ ) and loved the warmth against her skin. Every few nights before bed she'd throw a load in the washer, shrugging her shoulders at the quirked eyebrow Regina glanced at her with. "I like to fold them when you leave for work in the morning," Leila would say.

And she did.

She liked contributing. She liked having a chore that was just hers. It was an unspoken thing they did together. When Regina awoke the next morning she'd switch the clothes over and there'd be just enough time for the buzzer to go off as she was walking out the door.

Halfway through neatly folding a fluffy, royal blue bath towel, she heard the not-so-subtle creak of the top stair and a soft _"Shit!"'_ from somewhere in the hallway. She liked this game. She pretended not to notice, finishing up the last fold of the enormous towel, plopping it onto the stack to her right. Grabbing one of her rolled pairs of socks, she prepared to fire. The soft knock on the door was all she needed for her countdown. _Three...two...one_.

As Emma's blonde curls came into view from the doorway, she flung it as hard as she could.

 _Bullseye_.

"Hey!... _oomph_!"

"Breaking and entering again?"

Emma shrugged, reaching to the floor to pick up the crumpled sock and toss it gently back towards Leila's pile of neatly folded laundry.

"It's not breaking and entering when you have a key."

"Which you _don't_ ," Leila laughed, folding one sock into another and placing the pair amongst its companions. "Searching for the spare and letting yourself in is not the same thing. I'm pretty sure Regina's running out of hiding spots. Why don't you just man up and ask her for one?"

"I don't need a key to your mom's house, we're not... _dating_ ." She answered quickly and sighed, crossing the short distance to fall gracelessly onto the bed. "Speaking of which, where is _Mr. Mayor Mills_ these days?"

"Paris," Leila responded casually, turning around to face towards Emma so she could continue both her task and their conversation. "It's weird, you know? Knowing this... _fiancé..._ guy or whatever, lives with Regina, and _I_ live with Regina, and I've only seen him like twice."

"Yeah, I'll bet," Emma murmured her agreement softly, adjusting her position more towards the foot of the bed.

"It's cool though," Leila continued, "It's kind of nice how calm it's been around here, just the two of us. It's only been two weeks, but I've definitely had much worse times in the beginning before."

Emma couldn't help the sharp pang of jealousy that coursed through her at the thought of Regina and Leila together, of Henry with Graham. And of herself, supervising debaucherous late-night bar activity and checking in beer orders.

If she was being honest, she could admit that she was lonely, and a little lost. It helped that more often than not, Leila would eventually make her way to the bar during the day, where they'd sometimes get work done, but more often simply played chess together, talking and laughing as they prepared Leila to surprise (and demolish) Regina with her improved skills.

Emma had felt an immediate connection to the girl, of course, but it was becoming more and more clear to her that there was a reason she'd come blazing into her life one random summer morning.

Emma kicked the corner of the comforter a little with her shoe, jamming her hands into her pockets as she thought about how to word what she wanted to say. It was problematic to not be as conversationally adept as Regina, but she made a concentrated effort regardless.

"So...how do you feel about road trips?"

"I've never been on one longer than from Boston to Storybrooke."

"Right," Emma nodded. That was true. Might as well just ask. So why was she nervous? _Because a rejection from Regina's kid feels like a rejection from Regina._ And they were both important to her. "So, I'm going to pick up Henry from his dad's tomorrow, and I was kinda hoping you might want to come with me."

"To meet Henry?" Leila panicked a little inside at the notion. _What if he doesn't like me_?

Emma smiled as Leila folded the last towel, adding it to the pile. She stood and joined Emma, sitting on the bed cross-legged in front of her, a mirror image of the older blonde. She tugged on one of Leila's curls, laughing as she was swatted away.

"Well, yeah. And keep me company. Why? You nervous or something?"

" _No_ ," Leila scoffed indignantly, as though the very idea was preposterous. "I'm just...worried about Regina, is all. It'll be Saturday. She'll be here alone."

"Mmhm." Emma hummed, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "She's spent Saturday by herself before, kid. Unless you think...she'd want to come with us?"

"I just wouldn't want her to feel left out." Leila insisted, and Emma's heart warmed. While Leila spent a lot of her day time with Emma, she was with Regina during the evenings, so Emma hadn't been around to see the progress they had clearly made. "So how do we talk her into doing it? You've probably had more experience with this sort of thing than I have."

Emma shrugged and muttered under her breath. "Getting her drunk usually works for me."

Leila shoved her in the arm and flopped onto her back. "If she'll come, I'll come."

"Deal." Emma grinned, and finally succumbed to the comfort of the bed, settling on her back alongside Leila. She kicked her shoes off one by one and sighed. "Damn, this bed _is_ comfortable."

Leila slammed her left hand into the mattress. "That's what I've been saying! Regina looks at me like I'm pathetic. Kinda like a puppy that's only ever lived in a pet store window."

"Well, that's not far off," Emma mused, drawing the quilt that was bundled up near their feet over them both. She closed her eyes and tilted her head a little to make the pillow meet her needs for comfort.

The girl narrowed her eyes in a mild glare. "To be clear, just because _she_ thinks I'm like a puppy that has only ever lived in a pet store window, it doesn't mean I _am_."

"Whatever you say, kid," Emma countered distractedly as she made herself even more comfortable, reaching behind her head to fluff the pillow forcefully.

"Hey," she grumbled, "It's nice, but I never agreed to share!"

"Five minutes," Emma mumbled, turning onto her side away from the girl, and pulled the quilt tightly around her shoulders.

"Ugh." Leila huffed, turning away as well so that her back was pressed against Emma's. "This is not the kind of nap I had in mind."

But she smiled, knowing that Emma wouldn't see it and compromise her indignant façade, and fell asleep more quickly than she had in the entirety of her life in Storybrooke.

 

\--------

 

Regina hadn't always been impatient. She prided herself on her ability to compartmentalize and focus on the task at hand. But ever since Leila came into her life, all she wanted to do was make up for lost time. She didn't want to listen to — _insert annoying town member's name here_ — and their ridiculous and petty complaints.

If ever she wished she had a regular job, it was now.

As she sat in another dull meeting, pretending to pay attention to one of the miners complain that they felt they had a right to rent out the entirety of Granny's diner after their shifts to drink in peace, her mind drifted to her daughter and wondered what she was doing. She reached for her phone, discreetly typing out a text while simultaneously nodding along with Leroy's endless rant.

" _I should be finished here within the hour, any idea where you'd like to eat? I suddenly feel less than enthusiastic about Granny's._ "

She smiled to herself and waited for a snarky response. After a few moments, she shook her head at her needy unease over being ignored and placed her phone back on the table, looking up at Leroy as he continued to ramble on.

"Y'know? Sometimes after a long day underground, the guys, they need to uh... _unwind_."

Regina sighed loudly. "Leroy, I appreciate your points and will certainly take them into consideration. Make an appointment with my secretary for next week and I'll have a conversation with Granny and see if we can work something out."

She stood, smoothing out her dress, and plastered on a tight smile. Extending her hand, Leroy looked at it skeptically before taking it in a loose, sweaty handshake. "Yeah, thanks for...um...your time, Mayor Mills."

Regina nodded curtly and dismissed the man with a wave of her hand. After he successfully exited and the door closed tightly behind him, she pressed the intercom button on the phone next to her chair. "Georgia, could you clear my schedule for the rest of the day? And schedule an appointment to meet with Mrs. Lucas sometime early next week?"

"Consider it done, Madam Mayor," came the smooth reply from the intercom before it harshly shut off. There was only half an hour left before she had said she'd leave the office, she reasoned, and it wouldn't hurt to go home just a little early. She was already taking a half day.

Even the drive from the office to her home seemed to take up more time now that she had more waiting for her there than whatever additional paperwork had made its way into her briefcase for the weekend. She unlocked the door and pushed it open, a soft groan welcoming her into the house as the humid Maine air met with the cool breeze of the air conditioner.

Placing her keys into the glass bowl by the door, she shuffled out of her shoes, grateful to be home where she could finally relax. It was something for which she would be eternally thankful; she'd escaped the lifetime of loneliness that had always plagued her, even with the presence of Robin at times. It finally felt as though she was building something beautiful instead of being weighed down by a cloud of guilt.

Looking from room to room, she saw no signs of her daughter. Regina had hoped she'd be at home instead of at Emma's ratty bar. She would _hate_ to have to retrieve her on the way to lunch, as she and Emma seemed to have had an unspoken agreement over the last few weeks: avoid one another at all costs. Especially with Robin gone. There were too many _temptations_ involved when they were alone and it was just...better. For them both — it was just generally better.

Grasping the railing to the elegant staircase, Regina made her way to her bedroom to change. As she reached the top, however, she noticed that Leila's bedroom door was wide open and the light was on. Gentle tunes carried their way to her ears and she smiled warmly. _She stayed home_.

She crept the last few feet towards the open door and peeked in, but was unprepared for the way her heart leapt into her throat at the sight of the two blondes sleeping soundly beneath the quilt together. As the occasional snore from one or both of them drifted towards her, along with the soft music still playing from Leila's abandoned phone, she smiled and entered further into the room, softly flipping the lightswitch to bathe the room instead with the natural light filtering through the sheer curtains over the bay window.

It was nice to see them at once, so peaceful and sweet. Both Leila and Emma were so _much_ when they were awake. Always making some joke, a snide remark, just doing something to amuse themselves or the people around them. It was here, in the still of the afternoon, that Regina could just sit on the cushioned desk chair and observe.

It wasn't the first time she had noticed how much Leila actually resembled Emma; almost as though there _hadn't_ been a mistake on the child's birth certificate and she was somehow a genetic replica of the two of them, after all. The array of golden curls spread across all of the deep purple down pillows mingled together, such that Regina couldn't tell which belonged to either of them. Amusingly, the two slept in exactly the same ridiculous position: flat on their backs, with one arm thrown carelessly above their heads, the opposite knee drawn up at an angle.

It seemed that her plan to avoid Emma had been foiled. And what was she doing in her house anyway? It made sense, in retrospect; she had noticed a few things amiss on her way inside, but only at the back of her mind.

She smiled softly for a moment longer, reaching down to pick up and unlock the girl's phone, silencing the room. She indulged in just a few more seconds to gaze over their gentle faces, before fixing her own with her stoniest Mayor look, and cleared her throat sharply. She might as well have some fun with this.

Emma was the first who blearily looked around, her eyes finally settling on Regina and widening in panic at the single arched brow along with the glare she had been met with so many times before.

"Have you no manners, Miss Swan?" Regina lectured as Emma swung her legs over the side of the bed, pretending not to notice the way her shirt had rucked up over her stomach while asleep. Regina smoothly crossed one leg over the other, flashing just enough of her upper thigh from beneath her skirt to catch Emma's attention. "I assume you're aware that it's generally considered rude, let alone _illegal_ , to enter someone's home without permission."

Emma took a deep breath, still trying to find her bearings. She blinked a few times, looking to and fro and ran her fingers through her mussed curls. "Wait, how do you know the kid didn't let me in?"

Regina smirked. "You left the spare key on the table and didn't move the flower pot back to the place I keep it."

Emma stood up and stretched even further, her shirt rising to just above her belly button, exposing more and more of her tanned, toned figure. More than Regina could handle. She quickly looked away, but decided that if her choices were the horrifying zombie on the poster across from her or Emma's decidedly distracting abs, she'd take the latter.

"Damn it. Knew I'd forgotten something," she muttered under her breath, turning to look at Leila. "She sleeps like the dead. We must have accidentally dozed off. I didn't know these beds were _actually_ this incredible."

Regina had heard this many times since the two had begun spending more time there. "So I've heard. And you haven't even tried mine, it's actually _more_..." Her eyes widened at the implication as she blushed and quickly changed the subject. She stood, cleared her throat as she turned away from Emma and began piling the folded clothes and towels into the laundry basket. "We were supposed to have lunch together. I took a half-day."

"Oh, sorry, I'll get out of your way," Emma apologized, moving from the bed to stand just by the doorframe. Leila immediately used the rest of the space to stretch her limbs, spread out like a frog but still completely asleep. "I came over because I'm going to Boston tomorrow morning to bring Henry home, and I thought maybe the kid might want to ride with me, keep me company."

Regina stopped short as she lifted the full basket into her arms. "Oh."

Emma stopped her from pushing past her to leave the room in a hurry by gently placing her palm on Regina's elbow, swiping her thumb across the skin there, effectively halting her in her tracks. "And I was hoping you'd come too."

Regina's eyes inadvertently dropped to Emma's lips with the close proximity, watching as a small pout began to form. _The same damn one Leila gives me._ She adjusted her grip, balancing the load on one hip as she pulled her arm away. She smoothed her hair behind an ear as she glanced at Emma out of her peripheral vision. Emma, of course, decided to use that and took the laundry basket in one swift motion.

"Miss Swan —"

"Wants to help," she interrupted smoothly, holding the basket firmly. "Let's go, we can talk while I make myself useful. So, about this trip?"

"That's probably not a good idea," Regina began, frowning.

She strode abruptly from Leila's bedroom and down the hall towards her own, Emma hot on her heels. She huffed in annoyance as she gestured for the basket to be deposited onto her bed, and quickly recited to Emma a litany of reasons why they shouldn't spend an extended amount of time together. The argument died on her lips when suddenly Emma was only a foot away from her, closer than they'd been together in quite some time. Regina gasped at the predatory look in her eyes, like she'd honed in on what she desired most. Taking in the dark and wanton gaze, Regina backed up to the bed, trying desperately to put a little distance between them.

They had a stare off, each silently daring the other to make a move. Emma waited a few moments and then smirked. _Right where I want her_. Backing away and taking in the expanse of the room with a slow turn, she couldn't believe a bedroom could be so _large_ with so little in it.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Regina straightened up and took a deep breath. " _What_ are you doing, Miss Swan?"

"Hey, what's that about?" Emma griped, matching Regina's stance with hands on her hips, making herself a little taller. "When did I get demoted from Emma back to _Miss Swan_? That was twice in, like, ten minutes."

"You can be _Emma_ again when you can behave like a competent, respectful adult," she retorted, glaring to get her point across.

"Fine," Emma sighed loudly, yet felt a small twinge of regret at invading Regina's personal space. She had told herself she would conduct their interactions on a strictly friendly level, but when they got close, she couldn't help herself. The tension was too desirable, and it always drew her in completely.

"I just thought maybe it would be fun, you know?" She continued, "You, me, your kid, my kid...on a road trip...together. As friends."

She smiled that sweet, hopeful smile that broke down Regina's defenses nearly every time. Regina groaned internally, stepping briefly into the closet to retrieve a few softly-coated clothing hangers. On the way there, she started unbuttoning her shirt, ready to finally change out of her work clothes, and noticed with a small flush of pleasure that Emma was eyeing her in the mirror. She stepped fully into the closet to allow herself a modicum of privacy, but left the door open _just so_ , so that if Emma did try to see her, she still could. _Baby steps_. After all, why shouldn't she have a little fun too?

She returned quickly, having halfway undressed, and sorted through the few linen shirts Leila had left unfolded (she didn't fold much of Regina's clothing, actually, still a little uncomfortable handling things other than her own.) She gently placed them onto the hangers, rolled her eyes, and indicated with a wave of her hand that Emma should take a seat on the lounge chair in the corner across from the bed.

"I don't... _hate_ the idea." She called out over her shoulder.

"See?" Emma smiled that goofy smile again. "That's a start. I knew we were friends."

"Co-parenting and friendship are not mutually exclusive, Emma."

"Still," Emma pressed, folding her arms across her chest. She knew she was _this close_ to getting her way; she angled herself inconspicuously in an attempt to have a better view. "There's nothing in the world more important to me than Henry. And I know you haven't really had a chance to get to know him, but I really think you guys would hit it off. And Leila, too. You told me when she came into our lives that I couldn't be there halfway with the two of you, so I've been here. To help you with her. Maybe, now that Henry is coming home..."

 _I want you to know him. I want you to want to love my son like I want to love your daughter. I want this to be our family_.

She shrugged, realizing that she didn't quite know how she wanted that sentence to end, at least out loud. Regina peeked out from hanging things in the closet, still in her dress skirt but now clad in a regular camisole, and gazed at her intensely while she waited for Emma to continue.

"I would just rather have some company. Four hours in the car alone? No thanks."

 _Coward_. Emma reprimanded herself in her head, but still gave Regina that same hopeful look.

"I suppose it wouldn't be the worst way to spend a Saturday," Regina mused, resuming the task of putting the neatly folded laundry away. Emma averted her gaze as a few lacy, black things made their way out of the basket and into a nightstand drawer on the side of the bed farthest away from her.

"Great!" Emma exclaimed, her grin widening, desperately trying to hold the blush creeping up her neck at bay as Leila shuffled suddenly into the room, a disgruntled look on her face. "So, I'll leave you to your lunch date with the _Walking Dead_ over there, and I will see you both bright and early tomorrow."

 

\--------

 

Regina eyed Leila skeptically. She had second and third guessed her decision to spend her Saturday this way, and now that the morning had come, she was solidly headed for the fourth guess. Too much time with Emma tended to distract her in the worst way, and even though Robin was away, her heart was weary of her own push-and-pull. "Did you put her up to this?"

Leila scoffed, piling still-damp hair into a tangled mess at the crown of her head and securing it with a clip before answering. "She asked me if I thought you'd consider going with her," She lied, not really caring. "And I said I wasn't sure, but that I wouldn't go without you if she tried to con me too."

They were sitting side by side on the front porch of 108 Mifflin Street, waiting patiently for Emma to arrive and take them to Boston. Regina had literally tugged Leila out of her bed, gently shoving her in the direction of the bathroom so she could shower and dress for the day, her only response a series of groans and grumbles. Regina lingered long enough to hear the water beating against the tiles and nodded, satisfied that everything was on track. And here they were, twenty minutes later, casually watching the sun rise as the time approached 6:30, when Emma had said she would arrive. Regina smiled as the Jeep pulled up and stopped behind her own vehicle. _Right on time_. She could appreciate Emma's punctuality.

Emma, for her part, could not contain her excitement. Her kid was finally coming home, and her other two favorite people would be accompanying her on the drive. She glanced at the passenger seat where three disposable coffee cups rested in a cardboard carrier, and then over to Leila, who was yawning so widely, Emma was sure her jaw would come unhinged. She gave herself a mental high-five for the forethought to caffeinate them all. It was pure genius, in her own humble opinion.

Emma took a moment to appreciate how beautiful Regina looked on a casual Saturday morning as she stood from the porch in greeting, shielding her eyes against the rising sun. She so rarely got to see anything other than Mayor Mills anymore that the sight of Regina in a plain, soft white v-neck shirt and a pair of dark washed jeans was entirely refreshing. They shared a smile, and just as Emma was about to take a step closer to them, Leila hurtled forward towards the Jeep, rolling her eyes at the two of them.

"You guys can not talk awkwardly on the way there. Let's get this show on the road." She grumbled, clearly displeased by the early start.

Regina nodded with a shrug and hastened to follow, while Emma simply jumped back into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition, waiting for the women to join her. Leila promptly hopped into the backseat, leaving Regina to flounder awkwardly near the passenger's side door. After a few moments, Emma rolled the windows down, simply giving Regina an inquisitive look and pressing the button to unlock the doors again with purpose.

"Come on, Regina!" Leila called impatiently, buckling the seatbelt around her waist in the middle seat so she could easily (and quite illegally) reach forward and control the radio. "Get in."

"Don't you want to sit in the front with Emma, dear?" Regina asked with a frown.

"Adults sit in the front seat," Leila replied automatically, _sarcastically,_ as though it were the most obvious fact in the world. She didn't seem to find it odd that not half a month ago, she had been disputing over being recognized as a legal adult; their constant presence in her life already had her placing distance between herself and the label.

"I'm not gonna bite you Regina, just get in," Emma laughed, eyeing the woman slowly up and down. _At least not in front of the kid_.

" _Don't_ ," Regina warned as she opened the door, sliding into the seat gracefully, and Emma had to wonder, not for the first time, if she could actually read minds.

"I didn't say anything," Emma argued, quickly moving the tray of drinks so that Regina could sit. She deposited two into the cup holders, and handed one backwards to Leila, who accepted the coffee with a groan of approval.

"Oh my god, you're my savior," she praised, pressing the cup against her cheek and closing her eyes, sighing dreamily as though she had just been given _life_ back through its warmth.

"It's the middle of July, weirdo," Emma grinned, taking silent satisfaction in the way Regina _mmmed_ as she sipped the black coffee. She knew it would be worth it to go a little out of the way for the house chicory roast at Tiana's instead of the usual fare from Granny's.

"It's delicious." Regina interrupted. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Emma smiled. "Everyone good to go?"

 

\--------

 

Two hours into the ride saw Leila and Emma in a sing-off battle of Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody," each trying to sing more loudly with every note. It was as if they'd somehow mutually decided to see who could annoy Regina the quickest, she thought, with a deep roll of  her eyes at all of the unruly hair of her companions whipping about. The guitar part intensified, as did their effort, and she leaned towards the window in an attempt to distance herself from the exuberance. It wasn't that she didn't know how to have fun, per se, she just didn't quite feel like she could entertain them the same way they clearly amused each other.

She thought briefly of Robin and the way he always allowed her to choose the music they played in the car, inevitably nodding his head softly to whichever jazz station she had chosen. She was never out of her depth with him. Her heart clenched a little at the sudden feeling; she had never actively _missed_ his presence before. What did that mean? How could she sit in the passenger's seat of Emma's car, blissfully allowing her adolescent crush on the woman to run rampant, and yet somehow still notice Robin's absence?

It was obnoxious to feel so conflicted about two people who were so completely opposite, in essence and in her life.

 _Focus on Leila_ , she reminded herself calmly. _She is what matters — she's all that matters now_.

How she'd become so deeply entangled with multiple irritating blondes, she'd never understand. Fate had a funny way of involving them in her life.

"Regina. Hey. _Regina!_ "

She jumped slightly at the tapping on her shoulder from the backseat, turning to see Leila looking at her as though she was concerned for her health.

"Jeez, where'd you go? I've been saying your name for like five minutes."

"I'm not sure," she lied, giving the girl a reassuring smile, but Leila could see through it, could see the troubled mind so obvious behind the mask. "I'm sorry. Did you need something?"

"I was asking who played the better air guitar, me or Emma? We need an impartial judge. Obviously, it's me, but Emma won't admit she's a loser."

"That's not fair, she's like...the _most_ partial judge ever." Emma argued indignantly.

"Well, I would hope that Emma's air guitar playing was less impressive based solely on the fact that she's in control of all our lives at the moment, and would preferably keep her hands on the steering wheel."

Emma rolled her eyes as Leila thrust her fist into the air in victory. "Buzz kill. She just picked you because she has to. She's your mom."

"No way," Leila argued indignantly. "She doesn't _have_ to. She's liked you longer than she's liked me."

"Probably about the same amount of time, actually," Regina murmured absentmindedly, only half-listening to their inane banter, but realized just what she'd said when an uncomfortable silence descended over the car. As a slow blush crept up Regina's neck, Emma's hands gripped the wheel a little more tightly.

"So..." Leila drawled, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the console between the two women, glancing back and forth between them, an idiotic grin starting to blossom on her face. "How much longer?"

 

 

\--------

 

It was perhaps the longest four hours to Boston Emma had ever driven, she thought, as it took every ounce of self control she possessed to stop herself from reaching across the center console and taking Regina's hand within her own. It was just _there_ , so soft, tapping quietly against her thigh to the beat of the music, and Emma couldn't help but glance down at the other woman's lap every few moments. _It would be easy_ , she attempted to convince herself. _Just reach out and grab it._ But somehow, she couldn't seem to make a move, and before long, Regina shifted into a new position, her palm wedged between crossed thighs, and Emma internally swore at her missed opportunity. She had never so actively craved someone's touch before, and it was beginning to startle her.

As the Jeep pulled up to Graham's condo, Emma shifted into park and leaned back against the seat, taking a deep breath while closing her eyes. Things were amicable between her and Henry's dad, but she always felt a _little_ on edge around him. There had been tension when she'd decided to move with Henry away from Boston, and although they remained friends, it was only natural for their relationship to be somewhat strained. Throw in Regina and now Leila too, and the wild cards kept stacking up. She would be lying if she said she wasn't a little stressed.

Regina could sense Emma's discomfort, and checked in the rear view mirror to see Leila's face buried in her phone, headphones on, no doubt playing some kind of game. Reaching over the armrest, she placed her left hand gently on Emma's arm, rubbing the soft skin there with her thumb.

Emma opened her eyes and looked Regina directly into hers, smiling softly at the gesture. "Emma, why don't we stay in the car? It'll be easier for everyone. You go in and get him, we'll be right here when you get back."

Emma nodded gratefully, looking down at her lap before glancing up to the top of the building where Henry was waiting for her, somewhere inside. She returned her gaze to Regina's face and grinned. _Maybe we really can be friends_. "Thanks for coming with me."

As Regina opened her mouth to reply, Emma's phone began buzzing violently against the center console where it was charging; a picture of Henry with his father, arms around each other and each giving a thumbs up to the camera, accompanied Graham's name with the call. Regina couldn't help the little pang of jealousy that hit her stomach. Unknown to them both, intense brown eyes were watching them, observing the interaction.

"I'll be right back, okay? Twenty minutes, tops. Want me to leave the car on?"

"Roll the windows down." Regina instructed, and when Emma did, she leaned over to turn the key herself. Her hand brushed Emma's bare thigh as she retracted it, which prompted the other woman to inhale sharply and quickly exit the vehicle, pocketing her phone as she swiftly jogged up the stairs and buzzed for entry into the building.

When Emma disappeared through the door, Regina turned fully in her seat and tilted her head to catch Leila's eyes, locking onto them intensely. "Leila."

The girl quirked an eyebrow and tugged one earbud away, prompting Regina to continue. "What's up?"

"‘I'm asking you this now, because it's just you and I here. Please be nice to Henry. He's very important to Emma, and she's very important to...you."

"Of course Henry's important to Emma, she's his _mom_. Why are you so weird about her? Just admit that she's important to you too. Robin's not gonna hear you from across the world if you do."

Regina's lips formed a thin line. Either her feelings were much more transparent than she would prefer, or Leila was simply extremely observant. Probably a little of both. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Leila chuckled grimly, rolling her eyes playfully, finally pausing her game and tucking her phone away to focus completely on the conversation at hand, which she truthfully felt was a little overdue, after two weeks of spending one hundred percent of her time with Regina, Emma, or both. "I'm not stupid. You two are clearly into each other. There's no shame in that. You're attractive, consenting adults. Go for it."

"But...Robin..." Regina sputtered, completely overwhelmed by both her own onslaught of emotions and Leila's suggestion. She retreated back into her one safe space, the logical answer upon which she had always depended.

Leila leaned forward between the two front seats, adjusting her position to be closer to her mother as she implored, "Regina... you love him. That's why you're conflicted. But are you _in love_ with him?"

"It doesn't matter...there's much more at stake than being in love..." She was obviously going to lose this argument. The girl would never understand this kind of obligation. _Which was the point of letting her go in the first place_.

"But you're marrying him!" Leila insisted.

"We do _not_ have time to discuss this right now." Regina hissed, her voice dropping, lower and more quiet than Leila had ever heard it.

Leila cowered a little, never having heard her mother step into that role before. She wasn't afraid, though; it was obvious she'd struck a nerve and she wanted to push her just a _little_ further, just _enough_ to get the woman to realize that the concept shouldn't be foreign but embraced. "There's plenty of time, Regina. I want...I want _you_ to be happy. And clearly it's Emma who _makes_ you happy. So..."

"Leila. Please, stop. _Your_ happiness is the only thing I'm worried about. That _we_ make each other happy and we are okay. It's not a child's job to ensure their parents' happiness, it's the other way around."

Leila huffed, turned her head away, and glared out of the window. Conversations between them tended to become arguments quickly. She supposed they were both passionate people, and there was clearly much more to say on both sides. Being so similar, yet having completely opposite views could cause that to happen. They were still getting used to each other, after all.

Regina was probably right, though. Leila wanted to continue this discussion further, but knew better than to make Regina do it when Emma would be returning shortly, especially with her son in tow.

"We're fine," she conceded, flicking her eyes over to Regina's face briefly before looking out of the open window once more. "But we're not done talking about this."

"I'll decide when we're finished." Regina said firmly, the finality in her tone non-negotiable. She faced forward in time to see Emma pushing open the door to the building, a huge duffel bag slung over her shoulder and a gangly ten-year-old boy bouncing at her side, obviously chattering fairly incessantly. Regina smiled at the sight of Emma, suddenly so maternal and warm, but still with that carefree... _something_ that was so _her_. It was an enviable quality.

When they reached the bottom stair, Emma turned to Henry and stopped him mid-sentence, but they were still too far for Regina to hear what was being said, or even phantom what words their lips made. She dropped to one knee in front of him and rubbed his arms up and down gently, speaking softly. He listened intently, occasionally letting his gaze drift towards the Jeep while nodding along with whatever Emma was saying. She grinned, ruffled his hair affectionately and stood swiftly, continuing their walk towards the vehicle. Whatever the exchange had been about, it had been a success.

As Emma and Henry rounded the side of the cab, Leila unbuckled her seatbelt and slid along the seat towards the window behind Regina to make room for Henry. It also didn't hurt, she supposed, to remove herself from Regina's line of sight, for _both_ of them.

After throwing the lumpy duffel bag into the back cargo area, Emma tugged open Henry's door, allowing him to leap into the seat opposite Leila. He shuffled his backpack around to settle near his feet and fixed her with a goofy grin so identical to Emma's, it made Leila feel immediately at ease. _Like being home_.

"Hi," the boy greeted. "I'm Henry. My mom talks about you all the time."

Leila laughed. "Nice to meet you, Henry. I'm Leila."

Emma began to roll the windows up as she pulled away from the curb, and glanced at them both in the rearview mirror with a pleased smile. She turned to Regina, who she suddenly noticed looked... nervous, perhaps? Her face betrayed some sort of deep thoughts rolling around in her head, at least.

Over the sound of adolescent chatter from the backseat ( _"I don't have any friends in Storybrooke yet, maybe we can hang out sometime?"_ and _"I can show you my comic book collection!"_ ,) Emma placed her palm reassuringly over Regina's thigh just briefly to get her attention; once it was given, she took her hand away. "Hey, everything okay?"

Regina nodded once, giving Emma what she hoped was a convincing smile. She glanced through her side vision towards Henry, who she could see much more easily than Leila now. She watched as he dug deeply into the bottom of his bag for something, all the while describing to Leila the last ball game he had been to with his dad on the previous day. The effortlessness of his multitasking baffled her.

Emma followed Regina's gaze and shook her head, rolling her eyes at her own bad manners. As she lightly hit the turn signal to cross through an intersection towards the interstate, she called out over her shoulder, "Henry?"

"Yeah?" He replied brightly, leaning to the side to better listen to his mother.

"You remember Mayor Mills, right?"

"No," he answered honestly, as most children tended to do. He knew who she was, of course, as the leader of his relatively small town. He giggled slightly as he thought back to numerous town meetings, when he and his mother had situated themselves in the back row of chairs, playing hangman over the neatly printed meeting agenda being read through by the woman who was now seated next to Emma. But she'd never been anywhere with his mom before that he could recall, and definitely not to pick him up from his dad's house when their time together ended. He shrugged, smiling at Regina, who was looking somewhere between the back of Emma's head and his face.

"Okay, well, she's Leila's mom. And you know how I told you that sometimes Leila would be with us, like you go to your dad sometimes?"

"Yeah..." He prompted her to continue, looking to the side to confirm this with Leila, but she was typing something intently into her phone. He frowned a bit, but the feeling of dejection was fleeting; like most children, he bounced back quickly.

"So we'll probably see them both pretty often now. Okay?"

"Do I have to share my room?" He inquired suddenly, his brow furrowing at the thought of where Leila would sleep. He had his own room at his dad's house, but usually he ended up feeling more comfortable sleeping on the couch. He wondered if Leila would feel the same way.

"Oh, uh... no, she sleeps at her own house, Hen. With Mayor Mills."

"Please, call me Regina," the woman corrected, sliding her sunglasses away from the bridge of her nose to rest atop her head so she could see Henry when she turned around to address him properly. "Did you have a good time in Boston with your father, Henry?"

"Yeah," he answered quietly, one word seeming to effectively shut down her attempt at conversation as he turned to stare out of the window.

Regina nodded, immediately retreating back into her own space and facing forward quietly. Well, she had tried. It figured. Henry had opened up warmly, _easily_ to Leila. Emma had such a comfortable, happy rapport with her own daughter, one that Regina herself was only just beginning to develop with the girl. Some part of her had hoped and even wished, perhaps, that she might have some similar ease with Emma's son.

"It's okay," Emma soothed under her breath, noticing Regina's growing insecurity, speaking softly for some relative privacy. "He just takes a minute to warm up."

"Oh," she burst out suddenly, a thought occurring to her. "Regina is engaged to your dad's best friend, Robin."

Leila snorted over one quiet laugh, and Emma glanced in the rearview to see an amused expression cross the girl's face. "What?"

"Nothing," Regina insisted tersely, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Oh, I know Robin!" Henry interjected warmly, leaning forward towards Regina, straining against his seatbelt like the eager child he was.

 _Bingo_. Emma smiled, looking to Regina knowingly. Sometimes, all he needed was a small connection that he could draw for himself to get over his initial shyness.

"My dad talks to Robin all the time on the phone. Did you find out if you're having a boy or a girl?" He attempted to lean closer again, trying to catch a look at Regina's belly, but the center console was in his way. He listened pretty well to the adults around him, and prided himself on being observant.

Regina's face screwed up in confusion, and Emma's eyes widened in surprise. "What are you talking about, kid?"

Leila's brow furrowed, immediately on high alert.

"Because I heard my dad say Robin's having a baby," Henry explained simply.

"You might be a little confused, Henry," Emma suggested slowly, her eyes drifting towards Regina, whose grip on the side of her seat had tightened, her mind reeling. "Maybe you heard about Leila coming to live with them and misunderstood?"

"No, I heard it," he shook his head vehemently. As he opened his mouth to continue, Leila suddenly placed her hand on top of his on the seat between them, shaking her head intently as his eyes locked on hers. She jerked her head towards Regina, and Henry's eyes followed hers to the woman who was looking out of the window, sunglasses hiding her face once more. He nodded to Leila in understanding.

Emma, once again, met Leila's gaze through the mirror, sharing a short, concerned look before she reached out to slowly dial up the volume on the radio, filling the silence as best she could.

Leila, once she was satisfied that everyone else was occupied, scrolled through the extremely short list of contacts on her phone, opening a new message to Robin, the first one she would ever send. She typed one simple sentence and sent it to him, nodded to herself in satisfaction, and then shoved her phone deep into the pocket behind Regina's seat in front of her.

Sighing, she looked from Henry, nose buried in a comic book, to Emma who was trying to juggle watching the road and watching Regina, to her mother in the side mirror stoic and distant, she couldn't help but wonder what this little road trip would eventually unearth.

Shaking her head, she reached around the right side of Regina's seat to touch her arm quietly, hoping to convey... something — _anything_ — to the woman. She wasn't quite sure exactly what, but she didn't want Regina to be alone, locked away in her head with what were probably dark, troublesome thoughts. Leila kept her hand there for a few moments waiting to be acknowledged, and was finally relieved when a soft hand met hers with a tight squeeze. And with it came a fluttery feeling in the pit of her stomach she'd never quite experienced before.

Pulling her hand away after a squeeze of her own, she settled back into her seat, glancing around the car once more. She smiled to herself at her little makeshift family and how awkward they all were. But, they were together.

"So...how much longer?"

  



	7. Chapter 7

 

"If you don't get out of the way my blaster will knock you out too!" Leila exclaimed as she used Black Widow's ranged attack to bombard the monster next to Iron Man with her pistol laser rounds, indeed sending him soaring to his death as everything around him exploded.

 Henry punched the cushion of the couch in frustration. "Hey! That's not fair!"

 Leila paused the game and elbowed him gently in his ribs. "All's fair in love and war, kiddo. I beat you fair and square."

"Did not! You're supposed to let me win. I'm the younger one. _Mooom!_ " His grin belied his indignity and mock anger.

Emma perked up from her spot on the nearby recliner, legs swinging over the armrest as she flipped the page of her book. "She doesn't have to let you win, Henry. And you aren't young enough to pull that argument off anymore. Don't pretend like you and your dad didn't spend hours playing that game in Boston."

Leila stuck her tongue out at him and smirked as he grabbed her controller and unpaused, immediately sending Black Widow to her death as well. "Now we're even."

"Cheater! Gimme that!"

As the two continued to bicker and Emma, now only partially engrossed in her novel, laughed at them, Tinkerbell made her way up the stairs to the loft, dropping her purse onto the bar. She kicked her shoes off by the door. "Hey guys! Are you playing that Infinity game? Who's winning?"

"Me," both Leila and Henry replied simultaneously, as they entered into a new battle. When no one looked up to further acknowledge that she had entered the room, she rolled her eyes and wandered into the open kitchen, rummaging around through the cabinets for a snack. Shortly thereafter, she came up with a half-empty box of Thin Mint cookies and cheered in triumph.

As she settled in on a barstool, opening her laptop to catch up on some overdue work, Emma cut her eyes to the side to see that the kids were still immersed in their competition. When she assessed that they'd be occupied for a while, she quietly closed the hardcover novel and set it on a side table, pushing herself out of the recliner to join her friend in the kitchen. She was careful, yet casual, ensuring that the children's focus remained elsewhere.

Emma tugged open the fridge and retrieved two glass bottles, turning her head over one shoulder to quirk a brow in question to her sometimes roommate. "Want one?"

"It's 3 o'clock, Emma." Keys clicked furiously as Tink's eyes never left the screen.

"It's root beer."

"Oh, then...yeah, okay. Thanks."

Emma easily popped the caps of both bottles against the edge of the countertop and cringed immediately after. That was a bad habit she should probably break. She placed one onto the surface of the bar next to Tink's computer, taking a long swig from the other. Even with all the windows open to allow in the cool, salty breeze from the nearby harbor, it was much too hot for her, and the bubbly, sweet brew provided relief. She leaned over as far as she could to look at the computer screen, frowning when she saw furious replies being sent to a string of short emails.

"Is this why Ruby's been covering so many of your shifts?"

"I didn't get a degree in mass comm to spend the rest of my life replacing kegs and flirting for tips," Tink huffed, pausing briefly to twist her hair expertly into a precise bun. "I've been working on that promotional tour, remember?"

"Right," Emma murmured, looking down and twisting the discarded bottle cap between her fingers. It always stung a little when people reduced her livelihood to the less favorable option. Not that she wanted Tinkerbell to prioritize _The Rabbit Hole_ above what she'd gone to school to learn and achieve, but it always felt to Emma like choosing the bar made her somehow _less than_. Tink's degree had helped her career to evolve over time and with growing technology to lead her into the field of marketing, where she was truly thriving. Emma expected the playful jabs from Regina, and as Ruby divided her time between bartending and serving lunch at her grandmother's place, it didn't matter so much what Tink thought.

"I'm sorry," Tink sighed, pressing her fingers into her temples and then dragging them through her hair to rest her head in her hands. "I didn't mean to gripe. I just have a lot on my plate. You know I appreciate all you do for me and the place to crash on the weekends."

Emma smiled thinly, clearly having taken some offense. "I know, Tink. It's fine."

"Anyway, how are those two getting along? Bonding and all that?" She pointed to Leila and Henry over her shoulder with the mouth end of her bottle, then took a long swig of the sweet liquid.

"You know, thick as thieves," Emma grinned, the creases of displeasure on her forehead smoothing out immediately. A burst of raucous laughter sounded from the couch as one of the two made some sort of mistake in the game, and Emma gave Tink a meaningful look as if to say _point proven_.

"And, Regina?" She inquired hesitantly, simultaneously returning to her task of sending out email responses, the little chirping notifications from her computer breaking Emma's thoughtful contemplation of how best to answer.

"We're friends," she finally replied simply, choosing not to elaborate on the recently increasing amount of time she had been spending at the Mayoral mansion. "Kind of, anyway. She's been pretty unpredictable since we picked Henry up from his dad's. I think it might have something to do with Robin, but she won't talk about it."

Tinkerbell nodded in understanding, wishing not for the first time that her friendship with Regina hadn't splintered and cracked the way it had all those years ago. There hadn't even been any sort of falling out, no closure to be had for either of them. They simply spent less and less time together, and with Regina's personal vendetta against any location where Ruby could be found, they rarely crossed paths.

It filled her with regret each time she came home and saw so much of Regina in Leila. She hadn't felt quite right getting to know the young girl on Emma's terms, when she had been the one Regina relied on so heavily throughout the pregnancy; the only other person to see her sweet face in the hospital, the friend Regina cried with late at night when they lived together in Boston. If she were to know Leila, she thought it would only be right to extend her friendship to Regina first.

"And you're okay with that? I mean, I know we haven't really been able to talk privately in..." Her eyes rolled upwards as she counted back to Leila's first official day in Storybrooke. "Wow, almost two months now, but the last time we were standing right here, you were calling up Regina, totally freaked out because the two of you had gotten pretty hot and heavy the night before."

Leila's head whipped to the side immediately and she gave Emma a significant, smug look before returning her attention to the game along with a still-oblivious Henry.

Emma's mouth opened and closed a few times, knowing at least with Leila, she was completely busted. "Hey! Little ears..."

She jerked her head towards the general direction of the living room, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. Tink cringed apologetically, having fallen out of the habit of censoring herself around Henry, as she'd spent so much time away from him in recent months.

" _Anyway_ ," Emma drawled, draining the last of her beverage in one large gulp. Since Leila was obviously onto _something_ , she decided a little controlled discussion on the subject would be acceptable, and Henry, thankfully, didn't seem to have noticed anything developing between herself and the mayor. "Nothing is really happening where that's concerned. She's engaged, and I respect that."

Leila scoffed loudly, prompting Henry to turn and blurt out, "What?" It was the third time Leila had fallen off of the virtual cliff, so she was obviously distracted, which Henry took to mean that she was growing bored.

He paused the game, stood up to stretch his awkward, growing limbs, and pointed in the direction of his bedroom. "I got a few new comics yesterday, do you want to go check them out?"

Leila nodded wordlessly, allowing Henry to drag her across the room and through his open door. Emma smiled gratefully as the soft sound of his little voice carried on the breeze blowing in. His enthusiasm for the Avengers was clear and Leila's interested responses caused a surge of affection in Emma for both of them. Even if she couldn't truly call herself Leila's mother, it still felt like her two children were bonding, and the feeling was beautiful.

A quiet knock on the door surprised both Tinkerbell and herself, and they automatically glanced at Ruby's closed bedroom door questioningly. She was sound asleep, immersed in her self-prescribed "required nap" for the afternoon, but it wasn't uncommon for her latest suitor to make his appearance sometime before the door to the bar officially opened and Ruby would wake up, rejuvenated and ready to play with the crowd for the next few hours.

For a small town, the Rabbit Hole had gained a loyal following and, due to its central location and proximity to the water, was never short on customers. They flowed in and out in distinct groups. While the sign on the door marked that the bar would actually open at six o'clock, Emma spent most of her day downstairs, keeping things organized and impeccably clean, and so would never turn away the occasional lunchtime patron or, well, Leroy. The on-the-way-home-from-work crowd ambled in around 6:30.

As they began to trickle out, Ruby flounced downstairs when the twenty-somethings began to arrive around 9:00, lining up shot glasses and pouring various amber liquids into them, the music cranking to a more upbeat set from the digital jukebox in the corner. It looked a little out-of-place in the well-worn wooden barroom, but actually got more action than most of the patrons probably did.

Every night was something different, and that was what Emma loved. She supposed the benefit of being the only real bar in town meant that most people assumed _The Rabbit Hole_ was their best choice to have a good time. It was great for business, and so far, she had been successful.

The soft knock sounded once more, jerking Emma out of her reverie, and she strode over to the door and yanked it open, prepared to send Ruby's latest conquest away disappointed until a later hour. To her surprise, the soft hand poised to knock for a third time belonged to a much more welcome visitor.

Regina smiled, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth nervously as she crossed her arms over her abdomen, seemingly to give her hands something to do other than hover awkwardly. "Hey."

"Hey," Emma greeted softly, stepping aside and gesturing for Regina to come through the door. She couldn't help but admire the gentle sway of her hips caused by the high heels she wore, along with the shorter-than-usual pencil skirt wrapped around around the starched, white blouse. Emma was constantly reevaluating Regina's wardrobe each time they saw each other, and thought that perhaps this somewhat casual business attire might be her favorite.

"I hope you don't mind me dropping by without notice, my last meeting was cancelled and I assumed Leila would be here playing with Henry." Or rather, _it's been nearly a week since I've seen you and that's far too long_.

Emma shook her head, waving off the notion easily. "No way, you don't even have to knock here. Hell, I never do at your house."

"It wouldn't be the worst idea in the world," Regina suggested pointedly, her mind drifting to a night just the previous week when it had been just Leila and herself at home.

 

\--------

 

She'd just gotten out of a bubble bath, and as such, was clad in only a soft, satin robe loosely covering a very small, _revealing_ , silken nightgown. Satisfied that Leila was snoring quietly to the tune of an old black-and-white movie in her bedroom, she snuck downstairs to make a cup of sweet mint tea before crawling into bed for an early night.

Just before entering the kitchen, she was startled by the sudden motion of the front door swinging open, and her heart stopped before she realized it was Emma ambling up the stairs.

Regina cleared her throat expectantly, waiting to hear what had possessed her to come unannounced into her home so late. Emma froze as she reached the entryway, scanning the semi-dark room, knowing she had been caught, only to stop short at the amount of Regina's smooth skin suddenly on display in front of her. She'd never seen her look so _comfortable_ before, bathed in the soft glow of the light from the kitchen, hair wet and curling at the ends from the warm bath water, a book in hand.

For her part, Emma could only stare mutely, her eyes roaming up and down her body before Regina took notice and had the good sense to draw her robe tightly around herself, cinching it at the middle with the black satin tie. The blonde swallowed, unable to keep her imagination from coming up with scenes in which she touched, licked, kissed and overall, _worshipped_ that body.

"I didn't know you wore glasses," Emma blurted out, and Regina automatically touched the simple wire frames, as though she'd forgotten about them herself.

"Well I certainly don't wear contacts to bed, it's terrible for your eyes," she commented, stepping slowly closer to Emma. "More importantly, what the hell are you doing sneaking into my home in the middle of the night? I swear, Emma, I've completely run out of places to hide my spare key from you. How do you even manage to find them, anyway?"

"It's only 10:30," Emma corrected, ignoring the question, "And you could just give me my _own_ key, you know." She smirked at Regina and put her hands in her pocket to retrieve what had brought her there in the first place. "Leila left her phone at my place, so I thought I should bring it to her." She held up the offending device, offering a proud smile as Regina stalked closer. Emma immediately stopped in her tracks, eyeing the way the brunette drew nearer with an indeterminable glint in her eyes. One that typically meant Emma was in trouble.

"Mmhm," Regina murmured deeply. "That was very smart of you. You know how I get if I can't get in touch with either of you."

The glint _did_ mean trouble, Emma surmised, but not the usual sort. Something felt distinctly more _sensual_ about Regina in this moment, though there was still a significant amount of space between them. Emma, for all her usual bluff and bluster, didn't quite know what to do with herself. She had consistently been the one pushing Regina's limits since they had agreed to behave strictly platonically following that disastrous first "family" dinner. But now, Regina was standing less than a foot in front of her, nails dragging across her chest absentmindedly, just beneath the cross-section of her robe as she tilted her head and regarded Emma curiously.

Regina smelled clean and softly fragrant, somehow herbaceous and floral and distinctly _feminine_ all at once. Delicious. Amazing. Wonderful. _Intoxicating._ It was enough to make Emma's brain short-circuit, and then Regina's tongue reached out just enough to wet her lips.

"And that was all you needed?" Regina inquired softly at Emma's continued silence, taking three steps closer to her such that, if she moved in any further, _everything_ would be touching. But they couldn't. _I can't_ , Regina chastised herself internally, but reasoned that there was no harm in _not_ touching Emma the way she was now. Proximity, for the moment, would have to do.

"N--no," Emma breathed, her eyes drawn automatically to Regina's mouth.

She smiled, humming softly, and as if her hands had a mind of their own, she reached out to grab the bottom seam of Emma's shirt, impulsively playing with the fabric between her fingertips, eliciting a sharp intake of air from the blonde. She didn't know what had come over her; perhaps it was the total relaxation she felt in a post-bubble-bath haze, her body still blisteringly hot from immersion in the water. Her inhibitions were lowered, for whatever reason, and she knew she needed to remove herself from the tempting scenario. Regretfully, she took a solid step back and away, her gaze locked onto the blonde's own glazed eyes meaningfully. "Emma, I..."

And then a muffled ringing sounded from Emma's back pocket, interrupting the moment and saving her. It took Emma a few seconds to even register the sound; it was only Regina's rueful chuckle that brought her out of her trance. Her initial, fleeting thought was to smash the device against the nearest wall because _goddammit_. The spell was broken, however, and Regina cleared her throat, removing Leila's phone from Emma's hand, smiled in a conflicted sort of way, and quickly turned on her heel towards the kitchen as the ringing grew louder the longer she waited to answer it.

"Do lock up behind yourself when you leave, dear. Try to leave the key where you found it."

 

\--------

 

Emma flushed now, recalling the exact situation Regina was implying, and nodded furiously. "You're probably right."

Their eyes locked, and Emma couldn't quite look away until Tink quietly called from somewhere to their right.

"Regina?"

She obviously hadn't noticed the other blonde upon entering, and a multitude of emotions flickered across her face before settling on a practiced smile.

"Hello, Tinkerbell."

They simply stared at one another for a few moments, neither quite knowing what to say, Emma looking curiously between the two as they tried to come up with something, _anything_ to make the moment less awkward.

"Oh, yeah. Tink just came by to say hi. She's been off on some business endeavor and finally decided to grace us with her presence."

Tink looked in Emma's direction and scrunched her face in distaste, turning to smile at Regina once again. "How have you been?"

Regina took a breath and plastered on a tight smile. "I've been well, thank you. I'm sure by now you've met Leila and without a doubt Emma has filled you in on...pretty much everything."

"I've met her, yes. I've...kept my distance, though. I assumed if you wanted me in her life you'd..."

Sensing where the conversation was going, Regina decided to end it. "Right. I would. Perhaps the next time you're in town you and I might catch up over drinks."

Tink nodded. "Of course, I'd love that."

Looking to Emma as if to signal her discomfort, Regina walked past them both, a stern "It was nice to see you again," flung over her shoulder as she went to find Leila. They had dinner to prepare and having Tinkerbell so close put her on edge.

A loud groan came from Henry as Regina appeared in his doorway, knowing that his time with Leila had come to an end, which always made him sad.

"I'll try not to be offended that you're so displeased to see me, Henry," Regina smiled, glancing between the two of them and giving the boy a wink as he looked up to her in a panic.

"It's not you," he sighed, clearly not seeing the playful wink as he closed the huge, leather-bound book opened across both his and Leila's laps somberly. "We just got to the good part."

"You can pick up where you left off tomorrow," Regina promised, smiling at Leila as she squeezed through the bedroom door within the little space left, a breezy 'Bye, Henry!' called over her shoulder. "Perhaps you'd like to come and have a barbecue with us?"

"Cool! That would be awesome," Henry nodded his agreement. "Can we grill burgers?"

Although they'd spent nearly every day together since he'd come home from visiting his father, he hadn't been to Regina's house _that_ often. When they were there, however, Leila preferred to spend time in the garden, often having contests to see who could flip whom first on the hammock or who could scare the fish the most so they'd scatter everywhere. He had spotted the enormous, industrial grill near the raised patio and was eager to see it in use; his dad had a very small one on the balcony of his condo, which was fun, but not nearly as impressive.

She grinned as she started to back away slowly, hearing Leila calling for her from somewhere near the door. Patience was not the girl's strongest suit. "I'm sure we can make you some burgers."

Henry nodded and smiled, cheering with a small fist pump that indicated his inner joy, turning back to his book and opening it reverently. Regina chuckled, turning away fully. Henry had the odd habit of never saying goodbye; he simply allowed the conversation to drop naturally until the next time he saw someone. Like the conversation never ended.

"Come _on_ ," Leila groaned, bouncing on her heels impatiently next to Emma, already resting her hand on the doorknob. Her face scrunched up in annoyance as her stomach growled; Regina wasn't moving fast enough.

"Better get moving, Regina, looks like somebody needs a _Snickers_ ," Emma joked, pulling open her refrigerator to begin to put thought into their own dinner, glancing over to Tink as she typed away on her laptop.

"Clearly," Regina agreed, smiling warmly at Emma in response, a shared look of mirth passing between them. Leila rolled her eyes, yanking open the door and stomping dramatically down the stairs in protest of her mother's' indifference to her plight. Rushed, uneven footsteps made their way back up the stairs quickly just as Regina was turning to leave, and Leila's head popped around the door frame, grinning at Tink apologetically with one dimple popping out.

"Sorry, Tink, it was really good to see you!"

Emma laughed at her misplaced manners as she completely ignored her other mother when saying goodbye, taking off down the stairs once more. Regina gave them both a soft wave and smile and made to follow her daughter.

"Regina..."

She turned back towards Tinkerbell, hair bouncing over one shoulder as she raised her eyebrows in question of the outburst.

Tink smiled painfully, sudden tears stinging her eyes as she swallowed around a lump in her throat, searching Regina's eyes earnestly.

"Your little one is lovely."

Regina nodded sharply and glanced away, taking a deep breath before returning to Tink's eyes with a genuine smile, the honesty springing forth before she could hold it in.

"You always said she would be," Regina said solemnly, gratefully. "Thank you."

They shared one last glance before she closed the door, heading in her daughter's direction, certain she'd turned into a ravenous monster waiting for her in the car.

 

\--------

 

"Have you heard from Emma?"

Regina hovered in the entrance to Leila's bedroom, an open recipe book draped over her arm as she waited for the girl to look up from where she was resting against the footboard of the bed. Her hair was piled haphazardly atop her head with one thin layer hanging down, completely straight due to the flat-iron she was tugging patiently from root to end.

"Not today," Leila replied distractedly, not taking her eyes away from her appearance in the full, standing mirror tilted downwards. She wasn't an idiot; that was how people burned their ears off. "Have you heard from Robin?"

"He'll be home late tonight; I don't think we need to worry about him for dinner."

She hadn't heard from him to confirm this, exactly. She still received the customary five minute phone call to her office mid-morning every day, during which he filled her in on his work overseas, inquired about the Storybrooke political world, and then her life at home with Leila, in that order. She never brought up what Henry had mentioned in the car, though she could hear her own voice tightening each time she spoke with Robin and chose not to bring it up. Until she was notified otherwise, she would continue operating the way she always had within their relationship, and send him the occasional text message before bed.

She knew that as his absence grew, and she speculated about why, exactly, he had been called to Paris for work so often, she grew bolder in each interaction with Emma. They were once again entering territory that thrilled her in a terrifying way, but she was powerless to stop it. A small part of her hoped beyond reason that the information Henry had repeated was true. In a world where Robin had created a child with someone else, she imagined herself free of all obligation, no duty to him or her mother.

However, she knew that unless Robin had involved himself with someone as powerful and connected as Cora, it was illogical to hope. She was still the best option to his father, the most appealing prize to be won. And where she once had only her own life to consider, she now knew that Leila's was also at stake. It was a thought that terrified her to no end.

"But then who will man the grill?" Leila mused, drawing her long locks over one shoulder as she let down several more curls and gave them the same treatment. "Emma seems butch enough, I guess."

"Leila," Regina chastised, intending an impromptu lesson on gender roles and language, but an image of Emma expertly controlling the various barbecue items cooking over the gas grill sprung to her mind involuntarily. She'd probably be wearing one of her usual white tank tops to combat the heat, her toned arms flexing as she flipped the burgers Regina was currently preparing for her and Henry. Regina would crack open a beer and hand it to her, and Emma would accept it with that captivating smile, wrapping an arm around Regina's waist to pull her closer--

"Stop thinking about it," Leila sing-songed, and Regina blushed furiously. One of the already straightened sections of hair fell in front of her eyes and began to curl at the ends, and Leila puffed it away with an annoyed frown.

"That seems like an exercise in futility," Regina commented, gesturing towards the flatiron in a halfhearted attempt to change the subject.

"So is pretending you don't want to get into Emma's pants."

"First of all, I never said I didn't," Regina replied frankly, her eyes gleaming at Leila's shocked, open-mouthed smile at her response. "And secondly, it's none of your business. I'm your mother, we aren't gal pals."

She said it kindly; she had come to rely on the friendly camaraderie that had developed between them due to their smaller age difference, but regardless, there still had to be certain boundaries.

"Sorry," Leila shrugged, unusually allowing Regina to put her in her place. Her mother had ceased reminding Leila of that fact, largely in part due to her own insecurity over the constant reminders that she had relinquished the title. However, as Leila backed down and became more comfortable, Regina's confidence in her role grew. "well, not denying it is progress, at least."

She said it with a mischievous grin, finally giving up and tugging all of her hair, the straightened pieces along with the untamed curls, into a high ponytail to get it out of her face and off her neck. "Ugh, you're lucky you weren't cursed with this ridiculous hair."

Regina smiled and closed the cookbook, still saving the page with her finger, and stepping closer to offer a hand to help Leila to stand. "Some people would kill for that hair, you know."

"It makes me want to kill _myself_." She complained, following Regina out of the bedroom and down the stairs. She probably _should_ see if Emma had contacted her, and she'd left her phone in the kitchen while she had been watching Regina skewer an assortment of vegetables onto fresh rosemary stems. "It's funny. I want straight hair, those with straight hair want my type of hair. It's like we're never happy with what we get, y'know? We always want what we don't have."

As Regina nudged open the swinging door and deposited the open book on the nearby countertop, Leila pushed herself up onto an intricately designed barstool and began swiveling side to side as she checked her messages. Only one: a series of pictures from Henry, all of himself making funny faces.

She laughed, nodding her affirmative answer as Regina held up a small box of apple juice from the refrigerator while removing the ingredients to finish making the burgers. She caught the box when Regina tossed it to her gently, and then remembered the point she had wanted to make previously.

"For the record, I wouldn't be opposed. To you and Emma dating, I mean. I'm sure it's pretty clear that I prefer her over Robin."

She had never received an answer to the message she'd sent him after Henry had dropped the baby bomb, which Leila interpreted as a free pass for her to officially dislike the guy.

"Well, be that as it may," Regina began, finely dicing an onion with precision, "My relationship with Robin is not something I wish to discuss in depth today."

 _Not when he'll be here in a few hours, and I'll have to be excited to see him_.

"So how are you going to handle that, anyway?" Leila pressed on, finally succeeding in stabbing the little straw through her box of juice after quite the struggle. She decided to give Regina a pass on the fiancé discussion, as she felt she had plenty of time to get to the bottom of that particular issue. "The whole, tortured love affair vibe in front of Forest Boy, who will be glaring at Emma with the passion of a thousand suns?"

Regina's hands stilled, and she quickly looked up at Leila, confused. "Do you think it's obvious?"

"Maybe not to him," Leila shrugged, kicking the wood of the island as her chair turned, and Regina glared at the sound. She lifted her foot up and crossed her legs instead to avoid the scolding she knew would come next. "And definitely not to Henry. Poor, sweet Henry thinks his mom is part of some medieval fantasy curse and that she's meant to be with his dad but they're being kept apart by 'fate'."

Regina's stomach turned violently. While she knew, of course, how Henry had been created, she had never really put much thought to the idea of Emma and Graham... _together._ Quick flashes of Emma pressed against the man, their limbs entangled, crossed Regina's mind and she felt suddenly ten years younger, watching the girl she loved pass by on the arm of someone else.

"And anyway, that's stupid," Leila continued, oblivious to Regina's inner turmoil. "if Emma's part of some curse or whatever, it's obviously this crazy, 'we-share-a-daughter-by-accident' lesbian fairy tale thing she's got going on with you."

Regina turned to stare at her, mouth agape, a slow goofy grin appearing as she shook her head at the notion. "You two are ridiculous. We are _not_ cursed. And besides, if magic _were_ real, I cannot imagine either of our lives would have gone quite as unfairly as they have thus far. Don't you agree?"

Leila sighed, looking down at the now empty juice box in her hand, balling it up and tossing it into the recycling bin next to Regina. "I don't know, the universe is pretty cruel that way. At least we're kind of on a better path now though, right?"

"Right." Regina confirmed, beaming at Leila's honest point. These moments between them were rare, and while they still had many issues to resolve, Regina acknowledged that this was finally a step in the right direction.

 

\--------

 

Regina had been right about at least one thing: Emma looked damn good tending to the grill in her slim fitting white tank top. While Leila chased Henry around the extensive backyard, each carrying a glowing toy lightsaber that Henry had brought along with him, Regina kept Emma company as they prepared a huge array of sizzling foods for their impromptu barbecue dinner. It was the third Saturday in a row that the four of them had spent together, and Regina hoped the trend would continue.

A particularly loud collision of the swords drew the attention of both women, and they laughed at Henry's somewhat bossy direction of their choreographed duel.

"You know," Emma commented casually, her bicep flexing as she pushed the grill brush roughly across the hot iron. She noticed that Regina swallowed hard each time she did it, so the grill was probably a lot cleaner than necessary. "If someone had told me three months ago that I'd be grilling in Regina Mills' backyard on a Saturday night while our children beat the crap out of each other with Jedi weapons, I would never have believed them."

"Neither would I," Regina agreed, cringing as Henry whacked Leila across the back in a surprise attack. "And yet, here we are."

A comfortable silence settled between them as Emma drained the last of her beer, and Regina got up from her chair to retrieve another for her from the nearby bucket of ice. She chuckled to herself as every bit of her fantasy began to play out. "And how is it that you manage to spend so much time with us on Saturdays, may I ask? Seems it would be the busiest night of the week for a bar."

"It is," Emma nodded, turning over a package of foil-wrapped corn on the cob. "But I have a young kid, and it also requires the least attention from me. I make sure they're fully stocked, and I have a few extra hands on the weekends anyway. Besides, Saturday's crowd is more into Ruby."

Predictably, Regina tensed, and Emma swore internally. It was often difficult not to bring up her roommate and most important employee regularly, as she was so present in her life, but Regina always shut down immediately at the mere mention of Ruby's name. She quickly added, in an attempt to fix it, "And plus, Tink is looking to make a little extra cash right now, so they've got it covered."

Regina nodded, smiling tightly, and Emma cleared her throat awkwardly, returning her focus to the grill. She moved some veggie skewers to the side, hoping the uncomfortable moment would pass, when she suddenly felt Regina's presence at her side, her hand now firmly pressed to the small of Emma's back.

"It makes me jealous that Ruby lives with you," she said quietly, shocked by her own boldness. She hadn't meant to say it — she had intended to change the subject to something entirely different, but couldn't let the moment pass in the end. Her honesty with Leila earlier in the afternoon had made her brave, liberated her, and she was still feeling it hours later.

"I get that," Emma replied, turning her head to look directly at Regina. "It pisses me off that Robin gets to sleep next to you."

Regina sighed deeply, but didn't look away, her heart beginning to race in the way that only Emma could cause it to do.

Emma shrugged, "Since we're being honest."

Regina nodded; they were, at least a little. It was a start. "I must admit I...I wish your phone hadn't interrupted us last week."

"Why?" Emma gulped.

"You know why," Regina breathed. Her hand slipped beneath the hem of Emma's shirt and her thumb slid just inside the top of her denim shorts, caressing the warm skin there. The back of her nails brushed over the dip just above the top of Emma's underwear, causing the blonde to arch back at the contact.

But she did more than just that; her eyelids fluttered and she inhaled sharply through her nose, biting her lower lip. The skin to skin contact was relished and yet agitated her all at once. Her heart sped up, and she felt an overwhelming desire to turn around and _touch_ Regina's skin.

" _Moooooooom!_ "

Both heads turned and Regina pulled her hand away, rushing towards the end of the deck at the sight of Henry dangling from a fairly high tree branch, Leila cackling madly beneath him. Panic rushed through her veins at the thought of the boy injuring himself and she looked back to Emma in fear of whatever was about to transpire.

Emma laughed at the kids and at Regina's reaction, secretly thinking it was adorable how freaked out she was. She'd never had to deal with kids being... well... _kids_. And boys, especially, could be incredibly dumb. Poor Regina.

Leila pushed at his feet, causing his legs to swing back and forth, which made Henry shout more insistently. "Mom! _Regina_!"

Emma's forehead wrinkled in concern as she looked more closely, pointing at Leila with her tongs menacingly. " _Leila_ , stop fucking with your brother!"

All eyes quickly snapped to Emma upon her outburst, and as soon as the word left her mouth she desperately wished she could pull it back in. Instead, she just kind of shrugged and yelled to them again, changing her wording. "Cut it out, you two!"

Both kids looked at her like she was stupid, as pre-teens and teenagers tended to do, and continued tormenting each other. Henry toppled down in a heap, taking Leila down with him and they both descended into a fit of laughter as Leila retaliated by tickling him relentlessly.

Regina walked back over to where Emma stood, trying to calm herself down from her minor panic attack. She swatted Emma in the arm and shook her head from side to side. "Watch your language."

Emma caught her gaze and looked into her eyes apologetically. "I didn't mean to call him that. It just kind of...popped out. I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about?" Regina asked, curiously.

"I told her to stop fucking with her _brother_ . And he's...y'know... _not_ her brother." She shrugged uncomfortably, her attention turned back to the grill, trying to hide from her big mouth.

"You idiot, I meant your use of," she emphasized the word slowly, trying to garner the response she so desperately desired. " _Fuck..._ around _them_." Regina smirked at Emma's slack jawed response as she reached out to tuck a loose lock of hair that had fallen out of Emma's messy ponytail behind her ear. "And of _course_ he is, Emma. Can't you see that they _adore_ each other? I would never want to take that away from either of them."

A sappy, love-sick, puppy-like grin crossed her face as she looked at Regina in wonder, relieved that they were on the same page. "Neither would I. No matter what happens between _us_ , I want them to have each other."

Before Regina could reply, Henry bounced over to them, plopping down in one of the chairs at the round patio table, an out-of-breath Leila trailing behind him. "When's the food going to be ready?"

"Burgers take a while to cook," Regina explained, leaving Emma's side to pull out the chair next to Henry and join him. "Your mother just started cooking them, so it'll be a few more minutes."

"Gross," Leila interjected, stealing a mushroom from the end of a skewer and falling into the chair opposite Regina.

"I'm making veggie burgers too, princess," Emma snarked, prompting a confused tilt of the head from Henry.

"Why would you want veggies in your burger?" He asked, looking at her in wonder and puzzlement.

"They're made of veggies, dummy," Leila told him, stealing Regina's abandoned sunglasses from the middle of the table and using them as a headband to contain her fallen curls. "Regina and I don't eat meat."

"I told you I prefer a more plant-based diet," Regina corrected; Leila shrugged with a bemused eye roll, waving off the clarification, and Regina continued for Henry's sake, "I'm not _opposed_ to eating meat, I just don't go out of my way to do so."

Henry wrinkled his nose in distaste. He'd never put that much thought to the subject, and he found he didn't particularly care for it. "You guys are weird. I'm gonna go see if I can catch some fish."

He leapt from the table, taking off towards the pond, and Emma chuckled fondly.

"I'm just going to say it," Leila paused dramatically, giving Regina a significant look behind Emma's back. "Your kid's a weirdo, Emma."

The top of the grill came down over the food, and Emma turned to lean against it nonchalantly like she was a master griller, jumping away immediately at the heat. _Mistake_.

"I know, believe me, that is _all_ Graham."

For the second time, Regina visibly flinched, and the tension quickly became palpable. It seemed that Emma couldn't mention _anyone_ she had been formerly involved with without sparking an involuntary insecure trigger in Regina. Leila glanced between them, cataloging the way Regina turned away and Emma picked at her fingernails intently. _Interesting_.

"So, is Graham hot, at least? I didn't peg you as someone who'd bang nerdy guys in college."

Regina looked at Leila in offense at the continued line of questioning, but then turned to Emma instead and stared expectantly, daring her to answer.

"He's... I mean, not unfortunate looking, I guess...if you're into that sort of thing."

She floundered, not quite sure if she had answered correctly, but Regina leaned forward and rested her chin on her hand, fixing Emma with a curious look. "And are you? Into that sort of thing?" Regina inquired, unable to hold it in any longer. She instantly regretted it when Leila snorted.

"I...uh...I mean...when you're twenty and..."

"Duh, she wouldn't have slept with him if she wasn't into it," Leila interrupted, hiding a smirk, and Regina narrowed her eyes playfully in return. Leila knew exactly the kind of trouble she was stirring up. "It's not the poor guy's fault. Not everyone can be as attractive as you are, Regina."

With a satisfied nod and a wink at Emma, she got up and jogged over to Henry, dipping her hands into the pond to disturb the fish next to him.

Emma shook her head and let it drop in embarrassment, shoving her hands into her back pockets. She looked back up at Regina, who was sporting an amused little smile. "And _your_ kid is a little shit."

"When she's being a _little shit_ , she's _yours._ "

Emma's heart fluttered the way it did every time Regina offered shared claim over the girl, and turned away to lift the lid to the grill. _Perfect_. Everything was done. "Everything looks edible, at least."

Regina stood, walking over to stand by Emma. "It looks delicious. Thank you." She leaned over, gently placing a soft kiss to the corner of Emma's grinning mouth.

She made her way down the deck steps and to the grass so that the two could hear her without having to shout across the lawn. "Henry, get your hands out of that disgusting pond and take your sister in to wash up. Dinner's ready."

The two looked up, acknowledging the message as Regina retreated back to set the table. Henry challenged Leila as he began to stand, wiping his hands on his shorts. "I'll race you. Last one there has to do the dishes!"

Leila scoffed, allowing him a small head start. "Oh, you're going down, loser!"

 

\--------

 

Splashing sounds came from the kitchen every few minutes along with muted giggles. Despite Leila's victory, she had graciously elected to help Henry with the dinner dishes once everyone had felt satisfied and happy, diminishing their smorgasbord just as the sun began to set and the twinkly lights draped along the perimeter of the fence turned on automatically, bathing the yard in a pixie-like glow.

Emma and Regina, deciding to stay out of their children's latest competition ( _"Bet I can dry the dishes faster than you can wash them!"_ followed by _"That's not possible, crazy, you can't dry them **until** I wash them!"_ ) retired to the family room, accompanied by steaming mugs of tea, a game of chess started on the coffee table in front of the love seat they were sharing.

Regina blew softly across the surface of the mug suspended in one hand, the other drawing forward to move the first white piece.

"That's racist," Emma complained, crossing one leg beneath the other as she contemplated Regina's move. "Why does white always get to go first?"

" _You're_ white," Regina laughed, settling back against the plush leather cushion to allow Emma to choose her strategy. "I don't think you get to use that argument. Besides, the white knight has always been my favorite. I don't know why."

A sudden crash (probably the refrigerator door, Regina figured, as Leila always yanked it open much too forcefully) drew their attention briefly, but the situation didn't seem dire enough to warrant leaving their blissful little cocoon.

"I know Henry thinks he's sneaky," Emma began, her finger hovering over one of the black chess pieces before changing her mind and decisively moving another instead. "But he's not. There's an overnight bag tucked under the backseat of my car, so don't be surprised when they come in here in a few minutes saying they ‘just decided' that Henry should sleep over."

"Henry is always welcome to stay here," Regina insisted, gently placing her wide-brimmed mug next to the chess board. "You know that."

Emma grinned appreciatively. It made her feel warm every time she thought of the way Henry now adored Regina. For a normally shy kid, he had taken a shining towards her right away. _The deal had been sealed_ , Emma thought, on a night a few weeks previously, just after he had returned home from Boston.

 

\--------

 

It was the first night he had played late enough with Leila at Regina's house to warrant staying over, and Emma had easily agreed when she received the phone call at the bar around ten o'clock from Regina, letting her know that Henry wasn't feeling well and had fallen asleep on the couch, his cheeks flushed from a very slight fever. She suggested that rather than disturbing him, she would watch him overnight just to make sure he was alright while Emma dealt with whatever crisis had kept her working so late.

For the first time since he'd been born, Emma hadn't had the immediate reaction that she should rush to Henry's side, and it was with an overwhelming sense of calm that she realized it was because she trusted Regina implicitly with her child. For as much as she had promised to be a second parent to Leila following the court's ruling, Regina had stepped into a similar role for her the moment Henry had come home.

The following morning, as she removed heavy bottles of rum from a low-lying cabinet to count inventory, Leila burst through the door, her arm around a fully rejuvenated Henry.

"Hey, kid," she greeted warmly, brushing her palms off on her old work jeans as she pushed herself to stand. She smiled when they reached the bartop, Leila turning over two stools for them to sit. She ran her hands over his forehead and through his hair to check his temperature. "You feeling better?"

He nodded enthusiastically, springing up and spinning in midair to land his butt on the seat. "Yeah, Regina's way better than you when I'm sick. Next time, we're calling her."

Regina had settled comfortably on the couch in the family room next to him, her hands smoothing over his thin hair as he slept fitfully. It was more than likely just fatigue from a long day outside in the heat of summer. But still, she watched closely, and when he awoke confused, somewhere during the midnight hour, she gently led him to the kitchen to indulge in a cup of hot chocolate together.

Emma smiled gratefully as Henry recounted the tale, a rush of hot affection coursing through her veins at the thought of Regina caring for her son. And in such a genuine way, too.

She was only falling harder. _This sucks_.

 

\--------

 

As if on cue, Leila appeared in the doorway, her arms piled so high with blankets, quilts, and pillows that she couldn't see around them. Regina muffled a laugh at the sight, elbowing Emma softly to get her attention. She nodded gently towards the girl, and both women laughed as Henry appeared behind her, carrying a similar load that obscured him from view even more.

"We need this space, we're building a fort." She stated, dropping the mountain of fabric at her feet, prompting Henry to do the same, effectively placing them behind a wall opposite their mothers.

"And there are simply _no_ other rooms in this house you can use?" Regina mused, leaning away and stretching an arm across the back of the couch behind Emma's shoulder.

"Yeah, kid, we have to head home soon anyway," Emma supplied, a hint of mirth in her tone as she turned to give Regina a playful wink. They both knew how this would end.

"We thought you might say that," Leila nodded, turning towards Henry, with whom she shared a serious look. "And we've decided that Henry should probably just stay over tonight. He's young and it's late and he's _obviously_ tired."

"Oh, you have?" Emma queried, tilting her head back as she regarded them both, covering Regina's hand with her ponytail, loose and disheveled after hours of running around with the kids. She pointed at Henry accusingly. "You don't have anything to sleep in."

"I have a bag in the car!" Henry protested.

"Well, if he's brought an overnight bag…" Regina began, and Henry fist-pumped gleefully, running from the room to retrieve his things from Emma's Jeep. Leila followed, giving Regina an exaggerated wink and a thumbs-up gesture as she exited the room.

"Oh, _sure_ , it's no problem for you, you're the one who'll have a house full of kids tonight," Emma complained jokingly as Regina stood, adjusting her casual sundress as she strode in the direction of the kitchen from the family room, their rapidly cooling mugs of tea in hand. Emma's eyes followed her as she left, admiring the way the olive skin peeked out from a small diamond cut in the middle back of her dress. Realizing that she may not return, Emma jumped up and quickly made to follow the same path.

The door swung open to the kitchen in time for Emma to see Regina pouring the black tea down the drain, the stainless steel kettle already heating on the stove. Regina never let her drinks get cold; she simply started fresh with a new, piping hot replacement.

"No one said you had to leave, Emma," Regina smiled, continuing their conversation as though there had been no break. She turned around to wait for the water to bubble, the tips of her fingers sliding gently into the hidden pockets of her dress, watching eagerly as Emma slowly moved in closer.

Emma grinned, drawing ever nearer to Regina until her hands were resting on the counter on either side of her body, effectively pinning her against it while leaving adequate space between them. Regina blushed, ducking her head slightly, biting her bottom lip as she tucked her hair behind her left ear, grin in place. She waited a few moments, relishing in the sudden closeness before clearing her throat as she pushed past Emma's arm to do _something_ with her hands instead of pulling the blonde desperately closer and ruining her resolve. She walked to the sink and began putting away the dishes Henry and Leila had left on the drying rack next to it.

"But I didn't bring an overnight bag," Emma muttered the half-hearted joke, an unmanageable twinge of hurt in her tone at Regina's subtle rejection as she walked to the cabinet holding out her hand for the mug Regina was quickly drying off so as not to leave water stains.

As she handed the dish to Emma, she caught the sad look in her eyes and the small crinkle to her brow, and held their subtly touching fingers a little longer than necessary, smiling softly, almost painfully, hoping to convey how sad _she_ was too. She received a shrug as Emma pulled away, putting up the dish she received.

They each took a moment of silence, neither wanting to look at the other. Emma _knew_ she needed to be understanding. Regina pulled away from her, and that was her right. She respected and cared for the woman too much to allow her _desires_ , no matter how strong they were in that moment, to cloud her mind and drive her actions without thinking. Sure, she did that often and without a care, but Regina was _different_.

Regina argued internally, trying to come to terms with what she was denying herself for the man who may or may not be having a child with someone else. It was all unfair and confusing. There was _nothing_ in the world she wanted less than to hurt the woman behind her. However, kissing her was one thing — kisses could conceivably be forgiven. Being _intimate_ with her was another. One was _intimate_ with their partner and, as much as it pained her to admit it, that was Robin. They'd built that over the years, a comfortable partnership in a life together.

They stood there for a few moments, each breathing softly and allowing the other to think. Emma turned finally to Regina, reaching down to grasp her hand behind her, pulling their joined hands to rest on the small of Regina's back and squeezed gently. "Thanks for having me and Henry over tonight. It was a perfect evening."

Regina turned slightly, pulling Emma's hand with her as they now hung loosely between them. "It _always_ is." She smiled so brilliantly at Emma, both their hearts racing as they held each other's dreamy gaze. "Emma...I--"

Emma brought Regina's hand to her lips and pressed a firm kiss to her palm, closing her eyes and clenching her jaw at words and _feelings_ left unsaid. She didn't need the apology she could practically _feel_ rolling off of Regina's body. Emma knew the rounded conversation would leave them pained and upset and it would ruin their beautiful evening. She looked her in the eyes once more and nodded firmly, her smile tight and unreadable.

A sudden loud, electronic chirping startled Regina, breaking them from the moment she wasn't sure _how_ she wanted to end, her head falling to the side where the phone was plugged in as she noted the lit up screen indicating she had a message.

"I'm sorry," Regina whispered, turning away from Emma to check the incoming message on her phone. Her eyes widened when she saw the name.

 _Shit_. How had she forgotten?

She read it three times quickly, the words bouncing around her brain as it began to churn information rapidly. The first message had arrived nearly forty minutes ago. _Glad to to be seeing you tonight. I'll be home within the hour._ The second, a slightly more panic-inducing, _I've missed you so much. Can't wait to make up for lost time._

She faced Emma again, who regarded her with a reserved curiosity.

"What is it?"

Yet, they both knew.

"I think we've forgotten something," Regina smiled apologetically, a hard lump forming in her throat. She had been very close to losing control, and this was a painful reminder that she could never do so, no matter how comfortable she grew within Robin's extended absence. "Robin will be home," she paused, looking at the clock on the oven to confirm. "Very soon."

Emma huffed and looked away, "We should probably go, then."

"Henry can stay," Regina offered quietly, and Emma crossed her arms over her chest angrily. Regina reached out to place a hand on her arm, but she backed away quickly, rolling her shoulders as though gearing up for a fight.

An immediate sense of panic washed over Regina’s entire being at the sight of her arm extended to Emma, prepared to plead for her understanding, when she noticed her very naked left ring finger. Her mind drifted across her home, up the stairs and into her room to where her rarely-worn engagement ring sat delicately, untouched and forgotten, on a tiny silver tray on her nightstand. With eyes wide, she excused herself in a rush, leaving a befuddled and agitated Emma in her wake.

"Emma, don't go anywhere!" she called urgently as she took off running towards her bedroom to grab it.

“Where...would I go?” Emma huffed quietly to herself, pouting and a little confused as to why Regina had just cut off their (in her opinion, _extremely_ important) conversation. She stood firmly planted, however, watching the angry, glaring red numbers on the oven’s clock climb slowly closer to a time she desperately wished to avoid. She thought fleetingly of just ducking out of the house entirely before Robin made his entrance, but the way Regina had just torn out of the room as though she were on fire held her in place. She _definitely_ wanted to know what the hell that was about.

A few minutes later Regina returned, still running. _She runs?_ She mused, and simply watched as the woman abruptly halted in front of her, her hand reaching out to grasp Emma's crossed forearm to catch her breath.

Emma couldn't stand it anymore. "So, that guy comes home and now _this_ ," she gestured vaguely at the air between them, seeming to struggle with her words, "is suddenly irrelevant?"

"Of course not!" Regina insisted, both hands now outstretched calmly as she took another step towards her, but Emma backed away further, her hands now shoved into her pockets with her shoulders hunched forward. "Emma, you have to understand —"

"I understand," Emma broke in, her eyes flashing, betraying her bruised heart.

"You have to know how hard it is for me to have you both in the same place," Regina implored, following closely behind Emma as she made her way to the kitchen door and towards the adjacent family room to say goodbye to Henry. He shouldn't be punished from having a good night because it was time for her to go.

"I don't want to hear it right now, Regina," Emma stated simply, effectively shutting down the conversation as she whirled around suddenly, bringing Regina to an abrupt halt. "I'm going to say goodbye to my kid, and then I'll be out of your way."

"Emma," Regina pleaded, reaching out to twist the fingers of her left hand within the hem of Emma's shirt; the plea was clear, as was the sadness threatening to break her voice. She looked down at the hand as it held tightly to her, and her eyes opened wide at the change she saw, glinting and gleaming in a way that made her feel mocked; she knew _exactly_ why'd she'd run upstairs so suddenly. And it was bullshit.

Emma opened her mouth to practically snarl at the brunette when the slamming of a car door from outside caused them both to freeze, eyes locking intently as the kids tumbled together through the open doorway in curiosity. Leila looked around in confusion, pointing vaguely to herself and then each of them as though counting to make sure they were all there, and then her eyes widened in realization as she took in the stricken look on Regina's face.

She, too, had forgotten about Robin's homecoming.

Regina backed steadily away from Emma and steeled her gaze, plastering on a bright smile just in time for the door to swing open, revealing a weary, haggard-looking Robin bearing a small suitcase and a simple bouquet of red roses in his hand.

"Honey, I'm home!" He called jokingly, resting the travel luggage against the closet door at the bottom of the entry staircase. He jogged up the entryway steps, dragging a hand through his unkempt hair and greeted Regina with a smile.

"Hello, darling," she replied smoothly, stepping around Emma to stride forward and greet him with a quick kiss on the cheek, taking the offered roses with a thin smile. "These are lovely."

"Looks like we're having a party," he grinned, glancing around at the three people standing in a straight, horizontal line behind Regina, regarding him warily. He tilted his head as he noticed Henry, his eyes bugging out in surprise. "Wow, Henry Swan! I haven't seen you since you were just a tiny little guy!"

Emma reached out and wrapped an arm around his shoulders possessively, pulling him against her front as he smiled and nodded politely. "Yeah, you're friends with my dad."

"I am," Robin nodded in agreement, his warm gaze finally settling on Leila, smiling even more brightly at her. "It’s good to see you too, Leila. Sorry I've been so busy since you've been here. Hopefully now I'll get to stay put for a while and we can make up for some lost time."

His eyes slid over to Regina's meaningfully, echoing the same phrase he'd meant entirely _differently_ when he'd said it to her, and she looked away. Leila shrugged at him, her indifference obvious as she glanced at Emma, who looked so _hurt_ behind the stone cold eyes she was using to glare at Robin. She didn't like how fake he was being. She _knew_ he'd read her text to him the day they picked up Henry. If she was indifferent towards him before, she flat out couldn't stand him now.

She wished there was something she could do to alleviate the tension of the situation. She nodded to Regina as she caught her uneasy glance, giving her permission to excuse herself with Emma for a few brief moments. "Wanna help us finish up the fort? Henry is staying over tonight."

"Yes," Regina agreed. "Henry and Leila are in the middle of building a very impressive pillow fort in the family room," she pointed to what they'd started building. All the dining room chairs had been carried into the family room in front of the TV, the pillows and blankets stacked high above the back of the couch. Robin smiled pleasantly at the two of them, then turned to Regina and spoke to her with a bit of condescension in his tone that made both Emma and Leila want to strangle him.

"Oh, they're staying here tonight? I assumed that everyone would be going home with Emma. The loft would be a _much_ cooler place to build a sleep-fort." All eyes were on him as he effectively dismissed everyone in the house but Regina. He reached out to tug her gently by the waist into his side, and leaned in close, speaking just loudly enough for only Emma to make out his intentions. "I had hoped...that we could be _alone_ in the house tonight. Like we discussed."

Regina stiffened at the implicitation, the smell of his cologne invading her senses in all the wrong ways, her stomach lurching at the harshness of him being close to her again. What had always provided a sense of comfort, of reliability, was tainted by his extended absence and the secrets she suspected he now kept.

"I had already promised Henry he could stay before I received your message, dear. I’m sorry. I'm sure they'll spend the night at Emma's soon and can build an even better fort there." She smiled as Henry looked up at her when she placed her hand gently on his shoulder to reassure him everything was okay and that he was absolutely welcome in her home. "Why don't you go get changed and come back down and help them, darling."

"I'd love to. Let me run upstairs so I don't smell like airports and we'll...get to it." He leaned over and kissed Regina's cheek, placing his briefcase at the bottom of the steps next to his overnight bag as he disappeared from view. "Good to see you again, Emma. I'm sure Regina will show you out, do drive safely."

Emma scoffed, shooting him a dirty look as she felt Regina's hand rest against the small of her back out of view, trying to calm her before she opened her mouth and caused trouble. This _couldn't_ become a pissing contest between them. Not tonight, not with the kids there.

"I'm sure I can manage the drive just fine, thanks. Welcome home, I hope Paris was great," she bit out harshly.

Turning to Leila, she pulled the girl into a quick, awkward hug so that Robin could see them embrace out of the corner of his eye as he watched while ascending the stairs. Leila accepted the hug, knowing she was essentially being claimed, and found she didn't really mind; in a way, she embraced it. It felt right.

"See you tomorrow, guys. Be good for Regina." She leaned down to kiss Henry on the top of his head as she headed for the door, Regina hot on her heels as the kids ran off to find more pillows.

 

\--------

 

Regina closed the front door softly behind them, releasing a deep breath she had no idea how long she'd been holding, the palpable tension from the previous room rolling off her so she could finally feel some relief. "Emma, I'm so--"

Emma spun on her heel at the sound of Regina's trembling voice, immediately invading her personal space; she looked her directly in the eyes as she tried to find the words, and courage, to speak. She didn't quite know what she expected, though, as nothing was forthcoming.

Instead, she placed her fingertips lightly against her chest and tenderly nudged Regina back, giving her plenty of time and space to protest, to push her away and stop her. And as Regina's breathing noticeably quickened and her tongue darted out to lick her lips, Emma took it as a sign that she could continue.

Whatever was going on in Regina's head earlier clearly took a backseat as Emma pressed her firmly against the door with a soft _thud_ , every part of their bodies aligned. Leaning in agonizingly slowly, she captured Regina's parted lips in an achingly soft, passionate kiss; the only _real_ kiss they'd shared since their fleeting few hours together in a Boston hotel. Emma was left breathless and feeling very,  _very_ possessive.

Regina gasped into Emma's mouth at the feeling of a soft tongue caressing her bottom lip, her heart racing, and desperately encouraged Emma in any way she could. She was so tired of disappointing people (namely, herself) and what Emma was doing felt so unbelievably _right_ that she found she couldn't summon the willpower to end it. She grasped Emma's shirt, wrapping her hands around her sides to dig her nails into the skin there, trying to pull Emma closer, to feel _more_ of her. Emma knew they only had a few moments to spare, and she wanted Regina to know beyond a shadow of a doubt how she felt.

"Do you want me to stop?" Emma broke away suddenly, the words exhaled on a breath just below her ear. Regina, head thrown back against the door, chest heaving with laboured breaths and eyes closed tightly, simply bit her lip and shook her head in protest.

"You have to say it," Emma insisted, nudging her nose gently against the lobe of Regina's ear. She knew she stood to face a worse rejection than ever before, but this moment, this _intensity_ between them now, was worth it.

Regina dragged her fingers up Emma's back slowly, tilting her head forward to rest on the blonde's shoulder. She wrapped her arms around them fully then, a soft encouragement. She couldn't deny it any longer; she was going to give in to her deepest desires, despite every reason she had not to. " _Don't_ stop."

Satisfied with Regina's consent, Emma dropped her lips to trail down her neck in a series of insistent kisses and hummed in appreciation against the flesh there. She took a risk and licked, gently, with the tip of her tongue, up to the hollow of Regina's ear, her head reeling when Regina softly ghosted an " _Oh, god"_ at the sensation.

She tilted her head to the side, granting the blonde more access and groaned _quietly_ when her lips settled against the place just above her collarbone. Emma tugged the thin strap of her dress to the side to slip down over her shoulder, her trail of kisses following her fingertips. The only words Emma could think to say came without abandon, and a soft " _I love you_ " fell from her lips as she continued to kiss whatever skin she came into contact with, making her way steadily back towards Regina's lips.

Regina stilled suddenly, pushing Emma back a little so she could look her in the eyes. _Did that really just happen_? She had imagined the phrase coming from Emma so often within her mind that she wasn't entirely sure she hadn't just conjured it through wishful thinking. She stammered, shaking her head from side to side just slightly, unsure why the same words wouldn't come to her. She gave Emma her most earnest, teary smile, trying to convey how she felt. _I love you. I'm in love with you._ The words just wouldn't come, and she presumed she just needed a moment for her body to catch up with her ecstatic, reeling mind. She hoped that somehow Emma would just _know_ , but she feared, by the dejected look in Emma's eyes, that she was failing miserably. The love that burst from every pore in Regina's body _had_ to be obvious, right?

As Emma began to panic a little, Regina shook her head purposefully and pulled Emma back in for another searing kiss, her hands sliding up from her sides and over her chest through her hair, tangling inside the messy blonde ponytail. Her tongue dipped firmly into Emma's mouth just once as she pressed their bodies as tightly together as possible, then peppered her with firm kisses over her cheeks, her nose, her chin, over her eyes, everywhere she could think to express the emotion she felt pumping through her veins. That she was just overwhelmed by _feeling_ and simply couldn't speak. She met Emma's lips for one more kiss, this time slow, languid, sensual and beautiful.

Emma pulled away, brushing their noses together softly as she rested her forehead against Regina's, reaching up to tug trembling hands out of her hair. She laced their fingers together and held them tightly to her chest. It didn't go unnoticed that the brunette hadn't responded to her declaration, but she decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, assuming she was perhaps too overwhelmed to answer.

They stood there in tender silence for a few lingering moments, eyes fluttering closed and gentle kisses exchanged as they reveled in the moment. Knowing that soon Robin would come to find Regina if they took _too_ long, Emma risked a conversation she wasn't exactly enthusiastic about having, but one her heart desperately needed her to attempt. She stepped back slightly, and at a groan of protest from Regina she reassured her by keeping their fingers intertwined, squeezing them tightly. She took another deep, calming breath and looked anywhere but at the woman in front of her.

Sensing her discomfort and lack of eye contact, Regina released one of Emma's hands to bring her fingers just under Emma's chin, urging her to look at her, fear threatening to take hold. "What's wrong?"

Emma grimaced, distancing their bodies a little more, but still holding one of Regina's hands to keep that physical connection alive. She sighed in defeat, looking down to the ground as she spoke, finally finding the words, but she still couldn't bring herself to make eye contact. Looking down at her left finger, Emma tapped her ring with shame. "So, you take this off when he's not around? What's that about?"

Regina gulped. It was something she only started doing recently, casually _forgetting_ to put it back on after she'd moisturized after her morning shower, but she could understand why it would seem dishonest (or at least confusing) to Emma. "I guess I-" she faltered, not sure _what_ she should say.

"You what? Play house with me while the real thing is off 'on business'? How _classy."_

Regina's eyes flashed; Emma had _no_ right. "Don't presume you know _anything_ about it."

"Right, I know _nothing._ Just like I don't know how rude Robin just was to _my_ son because he wanted to get laid tonight  _in peace._ _That's_ presumptuous. I am not."

Emma was right about that, Regina could willingly admit. It was a rude thing for him to expect or even suggest. Especially after being gone for so long, and especially knowing that Regina wouldn't just “send them away,” and especially _never_ Leila. It was her home and her space and he was expected to respect that. She'd have to talk to him about it later. "You're right, I'm sorry. It was rude of him."

Emma's mind reeled and her frustration reached a new level. As did her instinct to _claim_ Regina, even if she didn't have an _expensive_ ring to do it. Before she could even think, her mouth opened and the first thing that tumbled out fell between them awkwardly. "Don't have sex with him tonight. I can't _stand_ the thought of his hands on you."

Taken aback, Regina dropped their clutched hands and drew herself back, putting one hand in the air, stopping Emma from coming any closer to her. "Excuse me?" She softly inquired, not fully understanding whether it was a request, or a demand, or _what;_ no matter what it was, it _hurt._

Emma squeezed her eyes tightly, her brows furrowing as she pushed at her temples with her thumb and middle finger, trying to ward off a headache that had been threatening to hit her with a vengeance since they'd been in the kitchen. "He's trying to get rid of your kid, and mine, so that little ears won't hear what he has planned for your evening."

"Emma."

Looking at her with a sense of disgust at the reproachful tone with which her name was said, Emma stopped her advance. "Unless that's what you want? To play the dutiful wife tonight. Welcome him home, _properly_." She laced the words with such revulsion it made Regina's skin crawl.

"Stop behaving like a child! Just stop. Please just let me speak."

"No, Regina, you've said and _not_ said enough for one evening."

Regina bristled, her arms wrapping around her middle as she took a firm step backwards to put more distance between them. "You can't _do_ that, Emma. You _knew_ when you got into this with me what could happen. You _knew,_ and you didn't care. You don't get to be disrespectful because you don't have the luxury of ignorance anymore and we can't just pretend Robin doesn't exist."

"He only _exists_ when it's time to stake a claim on you, Regina. One that he doesn't have, might I add."

"And _you_ do?" Regina argued hotly. "The only person who has a claim on me is _me_."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Then why are you lashing out at me? _I'm_ the one caught in the middle of all this." She looked down as fresh, burning hot tears threatening to spill over. "Don't you think I'd choose you? I've _always_ wanted you. It was only recently that you even noticed me."

"That's not —" Emma interrupted, flustered. She had a fair point. Emma had stepped into the middle of Regina's life, promising things that the other woman had dreamt of hearing for most of her adult life, if only at the back of her mind.

"You promised you'd never hurt me, but look at you, doing it all over again," Regina accused, her throat closing over the tight, harsh words as she turned to give herself a little privacy in order to swipe away her newly shed tears.

Emma choked back hot, angry tears herself. Regina was still the one who was stubbornly stuck in a ridiculous engagement to a man who, in Emma's _humble_ opinion, could never come close to being worthy of her.

"Right. If I'm such a monster, maybe you're better off with Robin after all."

"I don't have a choice, Emma."

Emma stopped, taken aback. Enraged, even. She _did_ have a choice; she could choose happiness. Unconditional love. She could choose to never have to spend another second sad or lonely. "You _do_ have a choice, Regina. You _absolutely_ have a choice. It's your body, not his. It's your life, not your mother's business deal. It could be _our_ life, together, if you'd just stop being so afraid. I would _never_ let anything happen to you or to Leila. You aren't a bargaining chip or a _prize_ to be won."

She continued, now unable to stop. She'd wanted to say all of this for so long, and it might as well all come out now before she lost her nerve. "He doesn't deserve you, you know. You're  _incredible_. You're the most incredible woman I've ever met. And we _feel_ like a family, the four of us. Until he comes waltzing in after weeks of being gone and pretends he gives a shit about you and Leila. It's not fair."

"I know it isn't, Emma. I'm sorry, I just...I need more time. Please understand that."

She reached out for the blonde, tears freely rolling down her cheeks now as she tried desperately to recapture their previous intimacy. She pulled her into a warm embrace, her head cradled against Emma's chest and arms wrapped securely around her waist, hoping against hope that after _this_ and after tonight they would still be fine. She still hadn't said she loved Emma back, she realized, and pulled away quickly to correct her mistake and tell the woman just how much she felt for her.

But instead, Emma extracted herself from the hug altogether, looking at her for a lingering moment as she wiped away the moisture glistening and burdening Regina's beautiful complexion. "Damn it, Regina."

She left then in a hurry, needing to get away from the stress and the emotions. Needing to get away from the lack of three little words that didn't float in her direction like she'd hoped they would. And as she turned one last time to glance at Regina, standing flushed at the edge of the porch, illuminated and devastatingly beautiful by low lamplight, she felt her heart break into a million pieces.

 

\--------

 

Regina tried desperately to hold onto her composure. She swiped at her cheeks harshly to remove the tear stains, attempting to gather her thoughts quickly before Robin inadvertently found her on the porch and questioned why she looked like such a mess after Emma left. She shook her head with a rueful, deep chuckle at how horribly everything had gone. How such an amazing evening could turn into something so painful. She watched the taillights of Emma's Jeep disappear around the corner of Mifflin and Main, whispering to herself what she wished she could have said mere moments ago while held safely in the blonde's arms.

" _I love you, too._ "

Inhaling deeply through her nose, she straightened herself out, wiping her eyes and hoping they hadn't turned puffy and red. She turned slowly and reached for the door knob, preparing herself for whatever may be awaiting her inside the house. Good or bad, she would just have to make the best of it.

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

Regina pressed the door closed softly behind her, cringing when it made a much louder noise than she would have liked. She climbed the short flight of stairs and glanced around the entrance to the first floor. Robin's briefcase was still perched against the railing of the grand staircase, so, she deduced, he hadn't actually gone into the family room with Leila and Henry as she'd suggested. Her eyes burned as she held back a fresh wave of tears at the fleeting thought that, had Emma been with them tonight instead, she might have been at the center of that blanket fort, an arm around each kid as they all pouted, insisting that Regina load a movie into the player and then join them.

She quickly shrugged off the mental image and crossed the room towards the kitchen, flipping a switch just inside the door to turn off the overhead light. On the same panel, she dimmed the lights of the entire first floor, with the exception of the family room which she noticed was already bathed in darkness. With just a few steps, she was able to peek into the room, smiling at the sight of the makeshift castle constructed with every spare pillow and blanket from each room in her home. Some cartoon about singing, bluesy dogs running around New York City was playing quietly, and Regina took a few moments to watch it as she listened to the gentle snores coming from somewhere within the blankets that undoubtedly belonged to Henry.

He had made it his own personal mission for the last remaining weeks of summer to introduce both Leila and Regina to all of the classic Disney movies they had missed over the last sixteen years. Leila hadn't seen many of them because she had always been bounced among crappy homes too often to keep up, and it had hurt Regina too much to think of the child she _should_ have been playing them for on repeat.

With a little satisfied nod, she backed quietly out of the room and scooped up Robin's briefcase on the way up the stairs. Just as she was passing the first door on the left of the hallway, quiet sounds from within distracted her. She nudged open the cracked door to see Leila reaching into the closet for a jacket, and she shivered a little involuntarily. The air in the house automatically became much colder at night, but she had been far too emotionally charged to notice the gooseflesh erupting over her bare arms until now.

She hummed softly to announce her presence, which startled Leila, but then made her smile. Regina caught sight of the mostly bare closet as the door slid closed and she cringed regretfully; they had been so busy working past the oddities of their new living situation thus far, that Regina had forgotten about the few possessions Leila actually had when she arrived.

"We should really go shopping before school starts," Regina commented weakly, still not trusting her voice to remain steady. It was probably a good idea to practice speaking before she entered her bedroom to pretend as though everything was normal. "I know you'll be wearing uniforms, mostly, but you'll still need...you know, _casual_ clothes."

"Everything okay, Regina?" Leila interrupted softly, knowingly. Her head tilted in question as she analyzed her mother's expression. Something had definitely transpired between them, she knew, but for once, refrained from pushing further. The haunted look was enough.

"Fine, dear," Regina nodded, still hovering half in and half out of the door. She cleared her throat and looked to the side, away from Leila's inquisitive, concerned stare and the awkward... _awkwardness_ of it all.

"It's cold downstairs," Leila explained, shrugging into the worn cotton jacket easily as she moved in closer. "But I'm glad you found me," a soft pang in Regina's chest at the statement secretly reverberated in her ears as she smiled at the girl in response. "I wanted to talk to you before bed."

She stepped right into the woman's space, waving her hand a little to suggest that she should back into the hall so she could tug her bedroom door closed. Leila leaned against it heavily, crossing her arms as she regarded her mother once more in the near-dark, filling Regina with unease.

"I just...wanted to thank you," she blurted out eventually, to which Regina knitted her brow in confusion; not at all what she expected. "For today. Making me feel like part of the family."

They shared a genuine smile, and Leila hesitantly pressed on, feeling unusually open but still wanting to protect Regina's feelings in case it hadn't gone well outside with Emma. "I know I'm not always the easiest kid to have around, but I am trying. To be better. And happier. And feel less..." she went on, hoping to convey to Regina that she was making a genuine effort to carve a niche for herself within Storybrooke. She gestured vaguely, trying her best to express herself with her body in a vain attempt to convey her thoughts when words failed her.

"Temporary?" Regina finished, meeting the girl's eyes as she looked at her mother like she'd figured her out. "I'm pretty observant, too, Leila. It's okay."

Dropping her gaze to Regina's flexing fists in the pockets of her dress, she felt a little insecure that her mother had always been in tune with her emotions. _Nobody_ had ever understood her, and it was partly why she'd felt so angry in the beginning of their relationship. If only Regina hadn't abandoned her, maybe she wouldn't have been so... _isolated_.

Interrupting what was clearly some inner turmoil, Regina placed a soft hand on Leila's forearm realizing that having this conversation in the hallway where Robin could interrupt might not be the best option. "Henry is downstairs snoring like a lion."

Leila chuckled a little as she was pulled from her deep thought. "Yeah, he does that. It's cute." She added with a shrug, grinning.

Nodding her agreement, Regina made a sudden decision and began walking towards the stairs once again, hoping the girl would follow. "Hot cocoa?"

This was obviously a conversation long overdue, and if it allowed Regina to delay the inevitable issues awaiting her in the bedroom, she was willing to be open with her daughter. _And maybe he'll have fallen asleep by the time we're finished_.

 

\--------

 

"So, do you wanna tell me what happened?"

Regina glanced up from scooping spoonfuls of marshmallow fluff into the bottoms of two mugs, a pan full of milk beginning to steam on the stove behind her. At Leila's expectant look, she realized she couldn't get away from giving the girl at least _some_ information about Emma, though that wasn't the particular conversation she had intended to have. As she dropped a pinch of salt and small amount of brown sugar into the thickening milk, increasing the heat to encourage the concoction to bubble, she shrugged noncommittally.

"Take your time, we don't have anywhere else to be," Leila continued sweetly, folding her hands primly on the countertop in front of her from where she was seated at her preferred barstool. Regina reached into the pantry for a bar of dark chocolate, and broke it into tiny pieces with her hands before dropping them into the pot, whisking fervently to melt it in smoothly.

"I suppose you have a right to know," Regina commented evenly over her shoulder as she turned the burner down to a simmer, returning her attention to Leila as she gracefully moved into position across the bar from her. "You've been stuck in the middle of our problems from the beginning."

"Well, technically I kinda put myself there," Leila admitted fairly. Regina chuckled, her head dipping down in acknowledgement of the truth.

"Still," she pressed, quickly reaching over to remove their hot chocolate from the stove, thankful for the thermal-resistant pot handle, and poured it evenly into each mug. She sprinkled a generous amount of cinnamon over the top of it as the marshmallow fluff melted in, and placed what had now been dubbed Leila's "official" mug in front of her. It was the one silly piece of kitchenware that Regina owned, a bright yellow monstrosity emblazoned with lady bugs and caterpillars. She didn't quite know why she had always kept it, an impulse purchase along the dollar aisle of a small Storybrooke indoor flea market, but she thought now, perhaps, there had been a reason to hold on to it.

"You know, if you ever get tired of the mayoring business, you could probably have a successful later-in-life career change to being a chef," Leila slurped her hot chocolate happily, tilting the mug at a specific angle so that the still-melting flow of concentrated chocolate rushed into her mouth first.

"I don't think I'd be quite as happy cooking professionally as I am cooking at home, for us," Regina replied thoughtfully.

"Yeah. _Something_ about home should make you happy, right?" Leila replied pointedly with a sharp look, and a dull thud in her stomach at the open truth prompted Regina to launch into the conversation she finally intended for them to have.

" _You_ do, Leila."

Leila gave her a hard glance and a raised eyebrow. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

Regina sighed, placing her hand on Leila's knee briefly and nodded, acknowledging that _she knew_ and continued. "Some of this is probably going to be a little difficult for you to hear," she began hesitantly, and Leila shifted in her seat, sitting a little taller to show that she was paying attention. "But I'd like to tell you about my mother."

Leila nodded solemnly, setting her mug down and wrapping her palms around it to enjoy the toasty warmth. She waited patiently, not interjecting or interrupting as she usually might, and Regina took in a deep breath, her eyes roving up to the ceiling to choose her next words. They both recognized the severity of it all.

"I've been in love with Emma Swan since I was fifteen years old."

It wasn't how she'd intended to start this explanation, she realized, as her heart pounded steadily, causing a ringing in her ears. It was the first time she'd ever said those words aloud. Leila's eyes grew wide in disbelief, and then squinted slightly in confusion. Hadn't the two women just recently started their little fling?

Emma mentioned that they had a history on the day they first met, but Leila had been under the impression that their current relationship was a new development. Before she could open her mouth to say as much, Regina smiled softly, continuing as though she had never paused.

"Of course, it hasn't always been so...close to the surface," she amended, tracing the rim of her mug with the pad of her forefinger absentmindedly. "After pining over someone for most of your young adult life and they _still_ don't know you exist, those feelings tend to move to a back burner."

Leila smiled in understanding, sipping her hot chocolate deeply, now that it had cooled enough, and nodded to encourage Regina to continue speaking. She figured that the less she interrupted, the more information she would garner.

"I'm not sure if you know this, but Emma and I lived on opposite floors of a large townhouse for most of our undergraduate years." Regina explained, her eyes settling just to the side of Leila's own as she recalled the time long past. "And yet we lived very separate lives. I... studied, a lot. I'm sure that comes as no surprise to you."

"That you were nerdy? I _never_ would have guessed." Leila interjected, winking at her mom as she nodded agreeably with the hint of a smile.

"Yes, well...I waited for her to notice me, but for some reason I was invisible to her."

"That's crazy," Leila interjected, "You're _beautiful_."

It was true. When she had been a small child, the visions of her mother she conjured up were more often women who were soft, warm, sweet as honey. As she grew, she observed the disappointment of some of the foster children around her when they met their revolving-door birth mothers, many facing addictions that altered their looks and inhibited their ability to be parents. The reality that her mother could have been someone similar took hold, and perhaps that was why she had been so surprised to meet the polished, stunning Mayor of Storybrooke.

Regina was radiant, soft, and felt like a breath of fresh air after being trapped in a crowded room. Surely, Emma felt the same way.

"Be that as it may," Regina drawled with a hint of sarcasm and a self-deprecating roll of her eyes. She certainly knew how to present herself well to highlight her strongest assets, but she had never _felt_ beautiful. "The only way I knew how to attract Emma's attention was to date someone in her group of friends: Ruby, Tinkerbell, _Graham_..."

"Robin." Leila finished for her, a touch of enlightenment flitting across her face.

Regina nodded, the corner of her mouth lifting up into a smirk. "He was very handsome back then, you know. Dashing, sweet. A real charmer."

"Hey, I never said he wasn't a total _fox_ ," Leila allowed, raising her hands in mock surrender.

"He was good to me," a tiny smile forced its way onto her face. "He listened to me, and paid attention to me. The way I wished Emma would. We just sort of... _fell_ into a relationship, and it was a lot nicer than being lonely."

"I'm sure," Leila commented, slurping the last lump of unmelted marshmallow between her lips loudly, leaving a sticky mustache above the top one. Regina chuckled mutely, automatically reaching across the space between them to swipe it away with her thumb.

Leila jerked her chin away, wrinkling her nose in distaste, and hopped down from her seat to make another batch. She retrieved the whole milk from the glass bottle in the fridge (she was still getting used to the more upscale grocery options in her new home) and poured the rest of it into the empty saucepan, all the while aware of Regina's watchful, amused eye at her back.

"What? I pay attention," she shrugged at the quirked brow from Regina. "How much sugar is it again?"

"About a tablespoon," Regina reminded her, shuffling from one foot to the other, shivering a little as the cool air from the vent started to blow in her direction. She should probably have changed out of the thin dress she had worn for the outdoor barbecue, but hadn't wanted to risk getting caught up with Robin before she had the chance to talk to her daughter.

"Do you want some more?" Leila inquired, noticing her discomfort.

"We're out of chocolate," Regina suddenly realized, just as she was spooning another heap of marshmallow fluff into the girl's empty mug for her.

"Hm," Leila hummed in thought, nodding to herself decisively and opened the refrigerator, coming up after a few moments with a bottle of chocolate syrup hidden near the back. She squirted it harshly into the milk, swirling it around slightly until the concoction heated through. She cut off the burner, turning to pour the new mixture into her own mug, and began to tilt the pot over Regina's as well. A quick hand covered the opening, stopping Leila just short of burning her mother's skin.

"That's horrifying." She stated, looking utterly disgusted.

"I improvised," Leila corrected, depositing the soiled pan into the deep sink and returning to her seat, gesturing to Regina with a little prompting wave. "Anyway, go on."

"I know it may seem to you like Emma is the... _obvious_ choice for me based on what you've seen since you've been here," she pressed on, choosing her words carefully. "But there's more behind _why_ I've been with Robin for so long, and it isn't just me 'settling' or not choosing Emma, regardless of what she believes."

"But you would? If there was a way for it to work?" Leila asked, hopefully.

"Yes." The simple, direct answer was intense, surely, but it was also remarkably heart-warming to Leila.

"Okay. So, what's stopping you?" She had to ask, not only to satisfy her own curiosity, but for Regina's sake as well. It was clear she needed to get _something_ off her chest.

And there it was. The reason Regina had held onto for so long, the one she threw out desperately each time she and Emma drew too close to one another. She was afraid, even more so now that Leila’s feelings were at stake as well.

"My mother...she is a very powerful woman," Regina stated simply. "Growing up, I was raised to be the picture of perfection. Urged to study hard, make connections, be polite and attractive to _everyone_ I met. I would be harshly reprimanded if I so much as stepped out of my bedroom without putting on lipstick first. Which is actually _your_ bedroom now. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that."

Leila smiled softly at the latter, though she was perturbed by the former. That sounded terrible.

"You know that Robin works for his father," Regina continued, "Boring international finance, and all."

"Uh huh..." Leila urged, not quite sure why it was taking Regina so many different subject changes to make her point.

"His father's company has always worked closely with my mother's. Robin was... raised in very much the same fashion. We didn't know each other growing up. It was only by chance that we met as adults in college. However, when my mother got wind of a relationship beginning between us..."

Regina shook her head, turning towards the sink to scrub out her mug rather than having to face Leila's increasingly furrowed brow as the story continued. "Obviously, that was convenient for both of our families. If we were to stay together, get married, have a baby...their companies would merge and we'd all be just _drowning_ in our wealth and prosperity," she bit out angrily, raising the volume of her voice to be heard over the steadily flowing stream from the faucet.

Leila simply leaned forward, her hand drifting up to rest against her cheek as it cradled her head, completely invested in Regina's tale. Yet, there was a question she couldn't ignore.

"He isn't my dad, is he?" She burst out suddenly, immediately covering her mouth with her palm, her eyes growing wide in surprise at her own inquiry now floating between them awkwardly.

To her surprise, Regina laughed merrily, a smile breaking the frown that had settled there over the last several minutes. "No, dear. I was pregnant with you in high school, and I didn't meet Robin until college. You don't...have a dad."

She didn't know a more delicate way to express that she had no recollection of Leila's conception, a fact that still made her cheeks burn with shame each time she thought about it.

"I don't need one anyway. I have Emma."

Regina smiled softly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "Yes, you do."

"I guess what I still don't get is why you _have_ to be with him. So, your mom gets mad. I've never even seen her in the two months I've been here. She can't be _that_ important to you."

"Honey, there's a _reason_ my mother has never met you," Regina implored, leaning forward over the island to clasp onto Leila's free hand tightly. "She never even knew I was pregnant."

"How," Leila asked loudly, hurt flashing briefly through her eyes, her hand pulled out from beneath Regina's and shoved into the pocket of her jacket instead. "Does she not know?"

"It's complicated, and I realize at some point she will," Regina explained, "But I promise you, it's not because I'm ashamed of you. She would have...she would have hurt you. Or taken you away. And she would have destroyed _me_ in every way she possibly could."

"So you thought you were protecting me?"

"Yes. Your safety was the most important thing to me," Regina confirmed, her eyes dancing as they bore into Leila's with honesty. "I was promised you'd be going right to your new family. They whisked you away to what I thought would be a beautiful life, free from manipulation and heartache. Free from my inability to stand up to her, and all her unfair business transactions."

She stopped momentarily, faltering in her train of thought as her voice cracked. The pain she always tried to hide billowed out without her consent. "This _horribly_ isolating life. You would have been cursed, just as I am."

"But we would have been together," Leila murmured sadly, the last word sticking in her throat as unexpected tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She had never been hit quite so hard with a feeling before, this acute sense of loss at the idea that Regina had actually loved her. She was _devastated_.

"I couldn't have guaranteed that," Regina replied, her voice dropping to a lower octave, suddenly hollow and raw, _broken_. "I wanted to give you your best chance."

"What if my best chance was this? With you? We've only been together for two months but I've never... you make me feel... _safe_. Something I've never had the _luxury_ of feeling."

She knew it was a jab, perhaps uncalled-for. Her natural reaction to any form of remembrance of her life growing up always made her snap. She saw the hurt in Regina's eyes and immediately regretted opening her mouth. "I didn't mean... I'm sorry."

"No, no, please don't apologize for how you feel. I deserve all of them, regardless of how painful they are to hear."

Leila looked away from Regina's guilty, tear-filled gaze. She had always thought it would feel good to lash out at her mother, if she ever got the chance. And at first, it had given her a small satisfaction to throw verbal punches towards the woman. Now, though, she could barely handle seeing any pain flash in Regina's eyes.

Probably because she'd seen it reflected in the mirror almost every morning. After arriving in Storybrooke and experiencing her lifestyle, Leila just assumed Regina had been living it up in Maine all the years that she suffered in Boston, and it made her skin crawl.

Regina, of all people, should have been able to keep a baby. But now that Leila knew the woman, knew she was anything but happy or really _living_ at all, she felt a sense of unity and familiarity about her that made Leila want to hug her and never let go. It was unnerving, this new feeling she had never known before, and she didn't know how to fully or appropriately handle it.

"Right now, it's not about us," Leila stated, her tone firm even as she felt the complete opposite. "And I think you know where I stand on our relationship. And I won't lie to you, we have a lot of issues we'll have to work through. But I want you to know..."

She sighed, watching Regina's hands knit together, a thumb tucked between the last two fingers of her opposite hand, waiting, terrified of being rejected once again. Could her heart handle it?

"I'm on your side, no matter what happened outside with Emma," she continued, "And no matter what happens tonight with Robin."

Regina smiled in such a way that Leila felt the radiance rolling off of her. Her eyes twinkled and she looked _free_ for the first time since the girl had known her. And any weight lifted off her shoulders made Leila feel a sense of pride. Things may be complicated between them, but they were slowly making progress, and it felt good. It felt... _right_.

Though she had felt this particular urge numerous times since her first meeting with Regina, Leila felt an overwhelming tug on her heart at the thought of wrapping her arms around her mother in an embrace. Physical contact had been relatively manageable thus far in Storybrooke; Regina respected her space and let her drive most of their interactions. And she was grateful for that. She knew if she pushed just a little farther, tested her just a little bit, she wasn't at risk to be hurt. The risk was hurting her mother.

"Thank you for listening to me," Regina offered happily, a small amount of gravity lifted from her tone of voice.

"You don't have to thank me for that," Leila replied, confused. "Isn't that what you do for people you care about?"

"I suppose so," agreed Regina, her forehead wrinkling as she contemplated that particular notion. "But I'm not sure anyone has really... _listened_ to me in quite some time, if ever. One of the downsides of being an adult, I'm afraid."

"Not even Emma?"

Leila was genuinely surprised by that fact, her voice tinged with it. She had done little else but observe them together in the time since Henry had returned, and the immediate connection and camaraderie that had sprung up between the boy and herself had necessitated the two of them coming into contact at least once daily. It may have looked to anyone else in town like casual friends whose children were also friends, but Leila _lived_ with both of them. She had seen them together more than once over the course of her time in Storybrooke, their heads turned in close and voices hushed as they spoke intimately.

"She has her moments," Regina commented, her tone calm and even, but Leila could tell that there was more on her mind than she was willing to further divulge. She filed that away in her mind for deeper investigation at a later date. Regina gazed fondly at Leila for a moment more before glancing at the digital clock on the stove as Leila yawned and blinked a few times.

"It's getting pretty late. You should probably get some sleep."

"Yeah, probably." Shifting the mug from one hand to the other, she looked to the sink and then to Regina. "Dishes?"

"Leave them."

Leila's lips quirked up into a surprised smirk, but said nothing; she simply slid to her bare feet from the stool, moving over to the sink to place her mug into it carefully, both hers and Regina's tucked snugly inside the saucepan they had used to make their late-night treat.

"You should take off that jacket," Regina suggested as she followed behind the girl on the way out of the kitchen. "I'm going to adjust the air, so you might get too warm while you sleep."

She approached a complicated-looking digital panel on the wall nearest to the staircase, and Leila hovered just outside the family room, watching as Regina settled on a higher temperature.

"I guess I'll go in here, with Henry," She jerked her thumb over her shoulder hesitantly.

 

"Okay," Regina paused on the lowest stair, prepared to finally venture upstairs. "Do you need anything?"

"French toast in the morning?"

"We can do that." It was so easy, Regina thought, to please someone who was won over so completely by homemade meals.

It was the immediate approval of her simple request, Leila thought, that ultimately propelled her forward to wrap her arms around Regina in the first hug they had shared thus far. Although _share_ may not have been the proper word; Leila began to panic as she realized that while her arms circled firmly around Regina's waist, her cheek resting just above where she could hear her mother's heart pounding, the brunette had stiffened at the contact and then frozen.

 _Oh god, I'm an idiot_ , Leila groaned, but just as she started to release Regina from her hold, the woman sprung to action. Perhaps she was too afraid to move in case Leila changed her mind or didn't mean to actually do it. Physical contact wasn't really her thing, after all.

Regina had rationalized that it could take years to be able hold her baby in her arms. And as she stood there in shock, unsure whether it was actually happening or if she was dreaming, she realized the girl's fight-or-flight instincts were likely about to kick in and she needed to respond. So, she did the only natural thing she could think of, she pulled her girl into her arms and tried to convey to her _just_ how much she truly _did_ love her, without the words she was too afraid of rejection to say.

It seemed clichè, of course, but in that moment Leila felt, without a doubt, that she was loved. Loved in a way that nobody could ever understand or truly put into words. Loved in a way that only the bond between a mother and her child could produce. She finally felt a sense of _peace_ settling deep within her.

And it terrified her as much as it healed her, the attachment that she instantly felt. She'd kept adults at arm's length her entire life, knowing that whether today or tomorrow or even years from now, she could be sent back or forced to run away — _something_ would inevitably get in the way of her happy ending.

And this, this moment with Regina that _she'd_ initiated, was part of the reason why she'd snapped so easily and answered everything with sarcasm. It defined her almost as much as her bright brown eyes or her obnoxious curls, or the fact that she'd been a runaway foster kid her whole life. She'd gone against every instinct she'd ever taught herself with just one hug.

She pulled away when she felt Regina tug her fingers through the ends of her hair and press a soft, quick kiss to the top of her head. She smiled tightly, watching through gleaming eyes as Regina once more turned to make her ascent to the upper level.

For some reason, she still needed something. "Hey, Regina?" She didn't know if she wanted her mother to say anything in particular, she just knew that she very strongly wished to hear her voice once more before she went to crawl into her makeshift bed with her makeshift little brother. Regina stopped and turned, a hopeful, expectant expression on her face."Goodnight."

Regina's eyes crinkled slightly, and they shared a still, small yet genuine smile. "Goodnight, Leila."

As she finally disappeared onto the landing of the second floor, Leila entered the living room and peeked into the opening of their majestic fort, noting that she'd have to be fairly creative to fit inside around Henry's sprawled limbs.

Maybe this step towards becoming closer with her mother, would turn out to be good and she had nothing to worry about. But as Henry's little snores crept closer to her ear when he turned over and snuggled into her side, she knew she was in trouble. It wasn't just about Regina; it was about Emma and Henry too, and the possibility of a family with all three of them.

 _Yes_ , she sighed, closed her eyes and allowed her hand to rest on Henry's shoulder as he slept on soundly; she was in _big_ trouble. And if she was already there, she might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

 

\--------

 

The upstairs hallway plunged into darkness with the flick of a wrist as Regina flipped the switch on the wall nearest her bedroom door. She knew for certain that now, the children were settled for the night downstairs, the doors and windows locked, effectively putting the house to sleep before she could retire for the night herself.

She opened the door purposefully; she refused to be anxious about entering her own sacred space just because she was once again sharing it with Robin. A quick survey of the area allowed her to assess her next steps. Steam curled under the edge of the closed door to the en suite bathroom, and the cacophonous sound of water beating against marble tiles indicated that the man was in the process of washing away the many hours traveled between continents.

No matter what, he always arrived home in the late evening, and spent significantly more time in the shower than he ordinarily would. Perhaps before the drastic changes to her life within these few months, she might have discreetly stepped into the shower behind him, surprising him with a kiss and pulling him closer to her under the steady stream of water.

But that had been a time when Regina had been settling. She acknowledged that to herself now, glancing around the room at his belongings strewn about: an electronic tablet tossed to the middle of the bed receiving nearly constant updates, the screen lighting up frequently with notifications. Polished, clean leather loafers tucked against the nightstand on "his" side of the bed. And ultimately, his phone, faced down on the surface and plugged into a wall outlet to charge its battery.

Regina felt a strange tug low in her stomach at the sight of it, an entirely new sensation. She'd never given much thought to whom Robin interacted with, because in the end she knew that he had grown as comfortable with their situation as she had throughout their years together. What had been passionate in their early twenties slowly morphed into something more reserved, more serene. It was as though they both came to the conclusion at some point that they were following the path that had been expected of them since birth.

For Regina, it was a dull contentment that satisfied her somewhat, yet still ached in her bones. She had made decisions when she was little more than a child herself that secured her life inside a vacuum, separated from her own child with a hole that could never be filled. And as for Robin, well, as he'd said so many times (to both Regina and as his standard party line,) " _Well, who could ever do better than Regina Mills_?"

A tingling sensation crept higher up her neck as she settled gingerly on his side of the bed, one leg crossing over the other primly while she snuck a glance towards the en-suite door. Alarm bells sounded in her head as she stroked the back of his phone with one fingertip, debating whether she needed to cross this line.

It wasn't that she _cared_ , she insisted , even as the little voice of Henry Swan reverberated in the corners of her mind.

_Did you find out if you're having a boy or a girl?_

She shook her head, chuckling ruefully to herself as she pulled her hand back into her lap, chastising herself for even entertaining the notion for a moment. _Don't be a hypocrite. You aren't exactly the picture of fidelity, are you_?

No. She would simply do what she had done for years now: change into something more comfortable, follow her nighttime cleansing ritual, and pretend that Emma Swan was nothing more than the dark side of her heart, like she always had; it might exist, but it remained unseen. Now, she just had to work on the part where the mere thought of the blonde's name caused her stomach to feel as though it had plummeted to her feet.

The soft, cream-colored summer dress lifted over her head easily and was tossed absentmindedly into the wicker basket at the back of her closet, a space really much closer in square footage to a small office (or to a bedroom Leila had once shared with three other children, a comment made in passing by the girl that had given Regina the distinct, watery sensation in her mouth indicating that she was about to vomit.)

A hand-carved oak dresser, comprised of five long drawers, was the centerpiece on the farthest wall, and she contemplated which of those drawers she would be delving into in order to get ready for bed. Robin, undoubtedly, would exit the shower in nothing but a pair of fitted boxer briefs, giving her that lascivious smirk as his head jerked towards the bed, eyebrows waggling playfully at her.

She could reach into the drawer nearest to the floor and produce something small, silken, and sultry; it would make Emma's _dirtiest_ imaginings come true, and her mouth tasted bitter at the thought. Instead, she smoothly slid open the drawer above and chose whatever was folded on top: a set of satin pajamas, royal blue in color and decidedly unsexy.

She quickly divested herself of the restrictive strapless bra the dress had required, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as she placed it neatly inside the top drawer alongside the rest of her more delicate items. She relished the way the soothing, smooth material brushed across her bare skin as she buttoned the pajama shirt, tugging the matching pants up her legs to complete the ensemble.

 _As you wished, Emma_ , she mused inside her own mind, admiring her reflection in the full-length mirror mounted to the back of the door. _Nobody will be doing_ **_anything_ ** _but sleeping tonight_.

The sound of the water in the shower trickling to a stop jerked her away from her own reflection, and she pushed the door to the closet open once more, the one parallel still shut and coated with a light sheen of condensation. He always had enjoyed giving the water heater a good workout.

With an ease that suggested she had done it hundreds, even thousands of times, Regina gathered the ends of her hair within one hand and twisted it all tightly to the top of her head, a retractable clip holding everything in place and away from her face.

She had always preferred a minimalist approach when choosing the items to display in her home, and the dual sinks housed between the actual bathroom and master closet were no exception to the rule. Well-organized horizontal trays of their most necessary tools sat beside both Robin's sink and hers, and she reached out to her own absentmindedly for the first bottle. They were organized by the order in which she used them, and when she squeezed a small amount of moisturizer out of the fourth bottle from the left onto her fingertips, Robin finally emerged.

Just as she had predicted, he stepped out supported by a cloud of billowing steam, forest green boxer-briefs encasing toned thighs, the towel draped over his shoulders.

He looked like an ad for overpriced cologne, Regina thought, and simply resumed spreading the moisturizing gel across her forehead, down the bridge of her nose, over her cheekbones. Her eyes cut to the side as he took in her pajamas, finally meeting his gaze in the mirror in front of them.

"What's wrong?" She inquired calmly, focusing her attention on drawing a line of toothpaste across each bristle of her brush. He plucked a thin comb from a porcelain cylinder to his left (the adjacent one on her side, instead, housed the heated end of her curling iron) and began to part his still-wet hair, combing it to uniform neatness.

"Interesting choice of sleepwear," he commented blithely, the disappointment evident in his tone, his sarcasm palpable.

Regina paused as she dragged her toothbrush across the line where her gums met her top row of teeth, glancing at him once more in the mirror where he was steadfastly avoiding the look she gave him. She resumed brushing, a little more harshly than she should, and then quickly rinsed out her mouth, drying the bristles on a fresh hand towel before turning to face him completely, a controlled tone of ambivalence in her voice, betraying _nothing_.

"Did you honestly think that you could spend two months in another country and immediately receive _that_ kind of 'welcome home'?"

He brushed his teeth as well, more furiously and with a haste that she knew defeated the entire purpose, but she bit her tongue on the comment that sprung to her lips telling him so. As he gently swished a mouthful of a fluoride rinse, he fixed her with pointed look that she couldn't quite decipher. She sighed and turned back towards the mirror, releasing the clip and allowing her hair to tumble down over her shoulders. She brushed through it lightly with her fingertips while Robin splashed water over his face, frowning slightly at her reflection. It was getting to be a little long for her taste, and she heard herself saying so out loud without a second thought, mutely registering Robin's muffled grunt in response.

It baffled her, the way they operated so completely on autopilot together, despite the fact that, at least to her, they couldn't have felt further apart.

She turned off the light above their dual sinks while Robin was leaning closely into the mirror to inspect a minor cut on his chin from shaving, and could practically feel his eyes rolling from somewhere behind her as she strode towards her side of the bed, gently turning down the sheets and comforter towards the middle.

"I did."

"What?" She inquired, confused, as Robin joined her to stand on the opposite side of the bed, still mostly naked, although he was now completely dried off.

"I _did_ expect that sort of...welcome home. Because it's always been that way with us. Until recently."

He tugged his portion of the bed coverings down as well, crawling beneath and allowing them to settle just above his hips. Regina remained standing, her brow furrowed and her hand clutching one of her pillows while she waited expectantly for him to finish his thought. She could always tell when he had more to say.

"I would have expected you to miss me," he shrugged nonchalantly, but a small hint of irritation colored his tone, so tiny that most wouldn't have recognized it. Regina did, though. "But it's clear that you've had other things on your mind."

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" Regina defended, her hands scrabbling briefly to slip into pockets that didn't exist. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest instead, eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline as she waited for him to offer an explanation.

"You've never been this...unenthused to see me," Robin began quietly, his eyes locked onto hers. "In the _ten years_ we've been together. Do you realize you haven't even kissed me since I've been home?"

She furrowed her brow, replaying the last three hours back as though rewinding a recorded tape. Surely she had; she had greeted him at the door. _And kissed his cheek_ , she realized. He was right. It was hardly the greeting one gave to their fiancé who had been away for two months, with barely a phone call to spare.

"That's irrelevant," she argued with a wave of her hand, not caring to justify his argument, as he wasn't entirely wrong. "I'm not your _plaything_ , ready and waiting for you to...to... _ravish_ me the second you get home."

"Obviously not," he replied coolly, reaching over to tug the charging cord out of the bottom of his phone. They both watched it tumble to the floor, and he only turned back to Regina at the sound of her voice breaking the tense silence, newly low and menacing.

"I have Leila now," she stressed, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm sorry if my attentions have been otherwise occupied."

"Speaking of which," he broke in harshly, a lilt in his voice that suggested a hint of sarcasm. "What took you so long to come upstairs tonight? Emma Swan calling to say she arrived home safely?"

Regina stepped back from the bed as though she'd been struck, completely taken aback that he'd known to contemplate _anything_ about Emma. She schooled her features quickly before he could register her surprise.

"I was in the kitchen having hot chocolate with my _daughter_ ," she seethed, "who actually behaves more like an adult than _you_ are right now, all because you're not getting your way."

His jaw clenched and he looked away, and Regina rolled her shoulders, easing her neck from side to side to release the tension she felt building. A strained silence fell over them; Robin, tucked beneath the covers, quietly stewing over the argument, and Regina fidgeting to the side of the bed, the stirrings of her annoyance too great for her body to manage.

"Why exactly have you been working in Paris so steadily?"

The question floated heavily in the air between them, and she realized that it was the first time she'd actually _asked_ him directly.

"I told you why," Robin stated calmly, folding his hands across his midsection. "My father just opened a new office in the 8th Arrondissement, and he wants me to get it up and running."

It sounded too...polished. Like he'd been rehearsing it. She searched his face for any signs of untruth, but a little voice drifted again across the back of her mind, her body stiffening in response. _Did you find out if you're having a boy or a girl_?

"And that's the _only_ reason?" She pressed, sitting cautiously on the edge of the bed with one knee tucked beneath her, the other foot planted firmly on the ground.

Their eyes met intensely, and he tilted his head to the side on the pillow, gazing at her imploringly as a hand stretched across the bed, palm facing up towards her:

"Of course."

She nodded, silently, and then slid into bed beside him, ignoring the outstretched hand. She turned on her side with her back towards his still-warm body, reaching out to extinguish the bedside lamp. Her mind replayed his earnest response behind her closed eyes, her heart clenching at the nearly imperceptible flicker of doubt she'd seen haunt his features.

In the dark, a cloying silence settled around them once more. She felt his hand wrap around her hip and his lips brush against the back of her neck, and she choked back a silent sob, counting down the minutes until his breathing slowed to an even pace, heated puffs of breath against her shoulder causing her heart to chip away slowly with each one.

  



	9. Chapter 9

 

Ever since the night Emma had abruptly run off, a mere sixteen days and two hours ago, time had moved painfully slowly and her mind had replayed the moment on repeat. It felt eerily similar to when Leila ran off before her hearing, and almost every second plagued Regina with thoughts of doubt and woe. If only Emma had waited ten more seconds, _maybe_ she could have said it back to her. It wasn't unthinkable to take a moment to bask in such an important declaration. After all, it was Regina who had the most at stake. _I wish she'd been more patient_.

As the days slowly ticked by and Regina became increasingly lonely and irritated, she still hadn't heard a word from her; Leila reported back here and there, and she saw Henry every few days, but noticeably absent was the woman to whom she felt so inexplicably drawn.

The woman she loved.

She'd sent her too many text messages to count, called more than a grown adult should have, and begged Leila to spy for her as much as the girl was willing.

Regina had curled into a tight ball on her large, _occupied_ bed, to be, admittedly, as far away from the man who constantly mumbled in his sleep as possible. Gently pulling the charging cord out of her phone that rested on top of the book she'd been too distracted to read (except the same damn opening sentence over and over), she turned the brightness all the way down and composed another message, hoping that she'd get lucky and catch Emma at a particularly lonely moment too. She _had_ to miss her, right?

As she typed and retyped the message, nothing sounding quite right, she decided just to send what had first come to her mind. _Please, Emma_.

She wasn't one to beg; in fact, she _never_ begged. It was unbecoming and it left her heart too exposed and vulnerable to admit that she needed another person. But she did need Emma. She needed her smile and the way her eyebrows always lifted as her head turned just slightly, daring her to say or move or do _anything_ beyond what Regina was comfortable with.

She missed the curl of her mouth into that playful smirk, and the way Emma's eyes _always_ dropped to Regina's lips, always wanting, always craving. She'd never felt so _adored_ as she did when Emma looked at her.

But most of all, she missed her friend. She missed the easy conversations and the fits of laughter. Missed feeling like no other moment could surpass the one they were currently sharing.

It was all too much. All too painful. All too heartbreaking. As she checked her phone one more time, a small _Read 1:32am_ appeared under her message, and with that little slap in the face she'd made up her mind.

She decided it was all too much, this _waiting_. She grasped her hand tightly around the phone, moving her body out from under the covers inch by inch so Robin wouldn't stir and as she escaped, padded her way to the closet to change.

Shivering at the cool air as it caressed the entirety of her body, she quickly grabbed the first things she could see (tight, black jeans and a well-worn, oversized Boston Marathon t-shirt) and threw them on as quickly as she could. Was she driving or walking? She contemplated briefly, her eyes darting around at various footwear options. She would be walking. _Running, probably_. A pair of impeccably white, flat sneakers slid onto her bare feet easily and she was ready. Regina had to see her. To work this out like adults. No more hiding, no more ignoring. She needed closure, regardless of what that finality meant.

She peered back at Robin's form under the covers as she waited, hand over knob, for him to stir. But when a particularly chest-rattling snore came from him, she decided he was in a deep enough sleep that she could leave unnoticed. Pushing open the door, she began walking down the hall only to notice the subtle glow of the tv in Leila's room through the cracked door. Regina stopped, peeking into the crack to see if the girl was asleep. She could just make out the backlight of her phone illuminating her face and knocked gently.

"Leila? Are you awake?"

She watched as the girl turned her head to look at her, and opened the door a little wider so she could see it was Regina. Sleepily, she muttered, "Hey."

The girl shifted under the covers to sit up slightly, making room for Regina to come and sit next to her on the bed. Regina sat, grateful that she'd been welcomed and not really sure what she should say. Or _if_ she should say it. She'd tried to keep Leila out of the middle of their little spat, only asking her to check on Emma to see if she was well, and talked about her as if it were normal Emma would be gone so long from their home. Looking down at the comforter, inadvertently playing with a stitch in the fabric as she sighed, not sure how to start this conversation, Leila did the honors for her. "Are you okay?"

Their eyes met and it was quite obvious that Regina was anything but.

"I don't know if you've spoken to Emma," Leila quirked an eyebrow in Regina's direction as if to say _duh_. Continuing with a drawl to indicate to the girl that she should just shut up and listen, Regina went on, "Regarding what happened after our barbecue, but things have obviously been... _strained_ between the two of us since then. I know we talked a little about it but..."

Nodding softly in understanding, Leila shifted a little closer to her mother, hoping that it would help her get whatever it was off her chest. "After Robin arrived home, she was, of course, very upset. And because our relationship had changed _since_ he'd been away, Emma expected a little more from me than I could give her." She closed her eyes and took a small breath to steady the nervous flutter reminiscing about that night brought to her stomach. "When we were outside she... well, she..." Regina stammered, trying to hold back tears.

"She told you she loved you." Leila finished for her.

Pausing for a moment in shock that the girl knew what Emma had said. _Was it that obvious_? She recovered and decided just to tell Leila what was going on. "Yes. She did."

Leila reached for her mother's hand, trying to comfort or encourage her or...congratulate her? The girl wasn't quite sure what the correct thing to do was in this situation. "That's good, right?"

Regina took a deep breath, wondering if this was even a conversation she should be having with her daughter in the first place. "I didn't say anything back to her. And once I realized it, she had already run off too quickly for me to catch her."

Leila winced. _Ouch_. But she thought about it a moment more. "Well, you do, don't you? Love her?"

"Of course I do. You _know_ I do."

"Pretty sure the whole universe knows that you do, Regina." She laughed. "You guys have like a..." Leila gestured with her hand as if a bomb was going off. "A...spark. The kind people in movies always talk about."

"Perhaps," she looked down again in defeat. "But Emma clearly doesn't know."

"Do you think she'd be ignoring you if she didn't? She's hurt, not stupid."

"She told you that she's hurting?"

"No, of course not. She puts on the same brave face with me that you do. She hasn't said anything, but I can feel the distance between the two of you. It's lonely without her around."

"I know, honey. I know."

"Are you...going to see her? You're...dressed." She winced; it was playing a little fast and loose with what Regina usually considered "dressed" for going out, but she chose not to draw attention to that fact. Her mother was obviously not in her usual frame of mind.

Regina nodded slowly, almost having to convince herself again. "I don't want her to think what was left unsaid at the time was because I don't feel the same way."

"Go tell her that. The worst she can do is end something that hasn't really even started yet, or ignore you more, which she's already doing. At least now she'll know."

Regina chuckled, "I never thought I'd be coming to my teenage daughter for love advice. And you're okay with this?"

"With you going? Or with you and Emma being _together_?"

"Either. _Both_." She quickly amended, realizIng how complicated everything had become. "You know that you'll always come first now. And if you don't want this, Emma and myself, I won't go."

Leila shrugged; their honest conversations were the best ones. She liked that her mother trusted her enough to bring her into her adult world and if she were honest, she'd spent the better part of the weeks they'd been apart just as miserable as Regina. She liked the little family they'd all built together. And seeing both the women in her life happy made her feel safe. She'd do anything to keep that feeling, as it was something she was slowly getting used to. "I want you _both_ to be happy. Whatever that means."

They locked eyes and both smiled warmly at the other, Regina giving Leila's hand a squeeze. "Thank you."

Gently tucking the girl back into bed, they shared one more smile before Regina leaned over and kissed Leila's forehead. It had become a small gesture that Leila allowed since their first (and only) hug a few weeks ago, and it had become one she welcomed. A way for Regina to express her affection without saying it, not wanting to push the girl too far after their first real physical connection, but still establish that she was her _mother_. A possessive, firm, sweet kiss on her forehead. It was nice.

Regina turned and walked out of the bedroom, rejuvenated and feeling confident enough to face Emma bravely.

"I love you," she called over her shoulder as she went, as if they'd always exchanged the sentiment. Perhaps it was on her lips as she mentally prepared herself to say it to Emma, or, perhaps more than likely, she said it so that Leila would be spared the anguish Regina had inadvertently caused by not telling Emma how she truly felt. Either way, Leila gasped softly from the bed while Regina froze in the doorway, not sure what to do. She took a deep breath and continued walking, tugging the door closed gently behind her. The sentiment would remain, unacknowledged but unchanged. It wasn't with regret or misunderstanding; Regina loved her child. And so she said it. No longer would the people in her life go without knowing exactly how she felt about them.

 

\--------

 

Emma had spent almost two weeks away from Regina. They hadn't spoken, she hadn't returned her calls or her text messages, and it was _killing_ her. She knew Regina had to be in just as much pain, but also knew the only way to make the woman see how much they actually felt for each other was to take herself away altogether.

She didn't like having to play the game, it wasn't what love was after all, but Regina needed her eyes opened. To see that she was no longer stuck in a life void of love or affection. That all she had to do was _choose_ Emma and she'd never be trapped again.That she wasn't a puppet of her mother, but an _incredibly_ strong and powerful woman.

She often wondered what kind of brainwashing it took throughout Regina's childhood for Cora to have the kind of magical power over her that she did, and it made her stomach churn as all the horrific possibilities played before her eyes.

Above all else, Emma wanted to pull Regina out of whatever despair that kept her trapped. There was only so much her heart could handle, though, now that she realized just how deeply and irrevocably she had fallen for her.

She climbed stealthily through the window to the loft's balcony, ducking her head so she wouldn't slam it against the frame, a beer in each hand to avoid making a return trip into the apartment. She had just cleaned up after the last stragglers of a surprisingly rowdy Sunday crowd, finally locking the door behind them at one-fifteen in the morning. Henry had fallen asleep on the couch, cumbersome leather-bound book of fairytales lying spread open across his chest. She hovered softly over him for a few moments, appreciating the way his lips pursed during the first few hours of his sleep, steady puffs of air flowing out of his nose. She smiled, carefully removing the book from his grasp, closing it and placing it on the end table next to him.

She sat now, admiring the view over the edge as she popped the cap off bottle number one, ready for another day to conclude. Ready for the aching in her chest to go away. It angered her how quickly Regina had gotten under her skin. How she'd made loving her _so_ easy.

And hating her too.

But she didn't, not really. She was just confused and hurt and annoyed and a thousand other things she'd never had to deal with before this woman came into her life.

 _Women_.

Emma sat in silence for a while, losing track of time as the moon shone brightly and the stars glistened above her and began to blur with each passing sip.

A hesitant knock on the window frame startled Emma, and in her surprise, she knocked her half-consumed bottle of beer to the ground. _Shit_. She sighed in disappointment, nudging the bottle with the toe of her shoe so that it rolled gently to the other end of the long balcony overlooking the ocean, a frothy trail of the amber brew following in its wake. The gently crashing waves had a calming effect on her, even as her heartbeat quickened at the sight of Regina for the first time in so long, and she thanked herself not for the first time, and certainly not the last, for choosing to build a life so near to the water.

Regina emerged fully, swinging her legs over the window's ledge and hopping down, her gaze sweeping across the shoreline before settling on Emma, a soft smile accompanying her hesitant look.

"Hey," she breathed, hovering at the opposite end of the deck from where Emma was slumped in her chair. She was slightly out of breath, Emma noticed, and the hair just at her forehead and temples was slick with sweat. Emma frowned. _Had she just run here?_

Regina glanced at the phone in Emma's lap, and bristled at the reminder of all of those little mocking notifications that Emma had seen her messages but neglected to answer. She had been so sure that she was ready for closure between them, to say _exactly_ how she felt, but now that she had arrived, she found that she had no idea where to begin.

"Hi."

She was smiling, Regina noted, which had to be a good sign, right?

"Guess it's a good thing I brought two," Emma commented, extending her arm to offer the second bottle she had brought outside for herself. Regina accepted with a nod and took a seat across from Emma, grabbing the wine key to her left and popping the top off with ease.

"Drowning your sorrows, Miss Swan?"

"Yep," Emma snapped back, as if it were the truest thing she'd ever admitted. "Running from your problems, Ms. Mills?"

Regina paused with the mouth of her bottle pressed to her bottom lip, glancing sideways at the blonde who still stared off into the distance before taking a long swig of the warm, cheap beer, grimacing at its bitter bite.

"I was running _to_ you, but I guess yours fits too."

When Emma trained her eyes on the ground between her splayed legs and said nothing, Regina rolled her own at the utter indifference.

"You haven't answered any of my messages."

At a simple, slow nod amidst more silence, Emma's head turning in the opposite direction to gaze out at the water instead of Regina's earnest face, the brunette had had enough. She slapped her palm against the table harshly, drawing Emma's attention back to herself.

"Maybe I was wrong, but I was under the impression that if nothing else, we were at least _friends_ , Emma."

"I thought co-parenting and friendship weren't mutually exclusive?"

Regina bit her tongue, swallowing her snide remark at Emma's use of her own previous words against her.

"Behaving like a child is not going to resolve any of our issues. Do you really have nothing more to say to me?"

Emma raised her chin defiantly, meeting Regina's steely gaze with a challenge. "I've said everything I wanted to say to you. _I'm_ not the one with a fiancé who I'm lying to every day." She sighed, pressing her fingertips against her temples to relieve the building pressure there. Regina looked away from her then, a pained expression overtaking her features. "What are you doing here, Regina? If you wanted to berate me you could've just sent me another novel-length text."

"I wouldn't have had to come at all if you had simply _answered_ even one of them!" Emma noticed the glimmer of unshed tears in Regina's eyes, and she felt a painful twinge within her chest. She wanted to be the one to chase away those tears, not cause them.

But still, she couldn't help the way her throat closed up every time she thought of the way Regina had looked at her as she fled the scene, hair mussed and lips swollen from those rushed, desperate kisses. Every reminder of that by way of Regina attempting to contact her had caused Emma's stomach to drop in the least pleasant way possible, so it had been easier to ignore her than to give her the space to reject Emma further.

"I can't keep waiting for you to say something...real, something honest... _meaningful_... and then pretending to be surprised when you don't." Emma explained quietly, verbalizing her feelings on the subject for the first time since the last time they had spoken. "I told you I _loved_ you, and you had nothing to say in return. I don't know where that leaves us, but it sure as hell can't be where we were before."

"Emma, you told me after being pissed off at me--at the _world_ \--when Robin came home and ruined _your_ night. Do you think...does that sound like a grand gesture of love to you? You shoved me against the door, _claimed_ me, like you were marking your territory, and then told me you loved me. Excuse me if it took a moment to recover from your revolving door of emotions."

"Well, you certainly didn't _seem_ to mind being pinned against the door. I asked you! And I distinctly remember a _very_ enthusiastic response...until I told you I loved you, and _then_ you had objections."

Regina's eyes flashed angrily. "How _dare_ you. I had _objections_ to you demanding I not have sex with Robin and the assumption that you had _any_ right to request such a thing."

At Emma's impending interruption, Regina continued, holding up her left hand to silence her. "You and I _both_ have trouble resisting temptation, and you're just as guilty of falling into that physical trap as I am."

Emma fidgeted uncomfortably. She definitely had a valid point. But the rejection had stung her too much to ignore, regardless of how strongly her body felt pulled towards Regina, desiring to hold her close and never let go. She couldn't succumb to those notions; she had to protect herself. "Still doesn't explain your lack of a response to something that was —"

"How can you _possibly_ claim to love me?" Regina interrupted abruptly with a shake of her head, an incredulous laugh slipping past her lips. "And then ignore me for two weeks? You barely even gave me a full minute to comprehend what you'd said before you ran away. Do you have _any_ idea how long I've waited to hear you say that to me?"

"Yeah, what's with that anyway?" Emma blurted out, gesturing widely with her hands. "Who holds onto unrequited love for sixteen years without ever _saying_ anything about it! That's crazy!"

"Please," Regina spat, "before Leila showed up and gave you a reason to be around me, you never even spared a second glance my way. Forgive me for not just throwing myself into your arms and hoping for the best." She pushed her chair out from under the table with an alarmingly loud screech and cringed at the sound, looking through the row of glass windows separating the balcony from the loft to check that Henry had stayed asleep.

Following Regina's inquisitive look, Emma turned just her shoulders in her chair to see Henry, shuffling his position but still completely asleep. Despite her anger, Emma's stomach fluttered at the concern etched on Regina's face for her son. _That's not fair_.

"I came here because..." Regina paused, resting against the railing to create a safe distance between them. She couldn't tell Emma that she loved her now. She didn't feel it any less, of course, but everything had gone so horribly _wrong_.

"We need to be able to move forward from this," she finished lamely, and Emma rolled her eyes, just as aware as Regina that what she said was a cop-out.

"I don't see how we can," Emma stated simply, shrugging at Regina, her eyes glazing over as she attempted to remain calm. "It's pretty simple. I love you, and you're going to sleep next to someone else tonight."

"Stop saying that," Regina demanded harshly, her voice stumbling over the last word as her arms wrapped protectively around her torso. It grated on her painfully each time the phrase left Emma's lips as though she intended its use as a weapon. She wanted the words to mean everything they were supposed to, or she didn't want to hear them at all.

"Nothing about our situation has changed. Do you realize that? Everything is as it was two months ago. I am exactly as engaged to someone else as I was every time you came a little too close, or I touched your skin a little longer than I should have, or you kissed me like I was the most beautiful person you'd ever seen. You can just _see_ him now, and that's too much for you."

"And it's not for you?" Emma questioned dangerously, bright eyes burning with renewed anger. "It's so easy for you to act like nothing is different when he's here? _Nothing_ is the same, Regina. And I can't act like it is anymore."

Seconds passed between them, during which neither could take their eyes off of the other. Emma measured the way Regina's chest heaved, her breathing deep as she seethed silently. Emma's hands clutched the sides of her chair rigidly, her jaw clenched. She didn't know how exactly Regina intended for them to 'move forward', but she knew this stalemate was not it.

Their attraction to each other always clouded their minds and immediately drew them together. Whether it was through love or hatred, _any_ emotion immediately charged and intensified and pulled them together like magnets. They were both fighting it this time, the pull, the _need_ to kiss each other senseless. Touch each other everywhere. It was just so much, so overwhelming, that it only seemed natural that the next move be the one they tended to fall back on.

All at once, it seemed like Regina was everywhere. She conquered the space between them in three long strides, her fingers delving into Emma's hair, pushing her back hard into the chair she was unceremoniously slouched in, and she kissed her. She attacked Emma's mouth with a sense of urgency and didn't wait for her to reciprocate. This wasn't tender or emotional and it certainly wasn't _love_. And as Emma pulled back slightly, trying to figure out where Regina had even come from in the first place, her mind slowed by just a little bit of alcohol and too little sleep, Regina slowly changed positions, catching her eye so Emma could see _exactly_ what she was doing.

And before her neurons had even fired to tell her that Regina Mills was _straddling_ her thigh, the woman was there, kissing her again, kissing her as if it was the last time she'd ever get the chance. And as soon as Emma realized the painful sentiment, she sat up straight and pulled Regina flush against her, trying to kiss away every ounce of pain either of them had ever caused one another.

As the two moved together, _devouring_ each other, Emma decided it was going to happen, right there, on the balcony. Regina was growing more frantic with her movements every passing minute, pressing into her insistently when Emma's palms snuck below her shirt, gently rubbing the smooth skin of her back, traveling up and down languidly. It was the effortless grace with which Regina swayed and melted into Emma's touch that made this even more _exhilarating_.

When Regina felt Emma's hands roving downwards and squeezing the backs of her thighs in a steady rhythm, gradually moving to firmly grab onto her ass as her hips rocked into Emma's pelvis, the brunette's fingers drifted down between them and hooked lightly inside Emma's front pockets, pulling the tight fabric down to reveal the skin at the waistband of her jeans. It was certainly one of Regina's _favorite_ spots to admire from afar, and it only spurred both of them on.

As her fists pushed down harder on the tight fabric, her knuckles brushed against the sharp angles of Emma's pelvis, bringing most of the focus of their bodies into one very heated area. Somewhere at the back of her mind, Regina told herself that she would very much regret throwing her inhibitions to the wind and moving herself over Emma so urgently, but even the notion of impending guilt did nothing to halt her actions.

" _Please_...Regina," Emma groaned, alarmed by the speed at which she had been reduced to begging, but the feeling of Regina's hands so delicately stroking her bare skin and drifting down her body was unlike anything she'd felt before. It was certainly much closer than they'd been on their first _somewhat_ drunken, shared night together, and Emma didn't know if she'd be able to stand not knowing what it felt like to take Regina so completely now that she was _so_ close.

Regina, though, stilled the movement of her hips in Emma's lap at the sound of the blonde's voice, disconnecting their joined mouths and dragging her lips down the side of her neck instead. She pressed a kiss against Emma's shoulder, her mind reeling as her own desperate, previous plea sounded between her ears.

 _Please, Emma_. The simple phrase that had spurred her into action out of her bed and onto this balcony in the first place. The uncharacteristic pleading she'd done just to garner an ounce of attention from the other woman, if only to tell her she loved her so there would be no doubt in the woman's mind that Regina was going to fight for them, even if it took her just a fraction longer.

As she slowed her kisses, varying them as she pulled out of her _Emma_ induced haze, she realized that this was not the way. She _wanted_ Emma, of course; there was no denying that. She'd always wanted her. And it was clear that Emma wanted this just as badly.

But if they were going to take this step, Regina refused to allow it to be on the back end of an argument with Emma's child asleep just on the other side of a wall and Regina's... _Robin_ , at home and blissfully unaware of her whereabouts.

She sighed, pressing one last lingering kiss just at the corner of Emma's mouth. She pulled back, closing her eyes as she tilted her head forward to rest against Emma's forehead, stabilizing her breathing, but nothing could stop her heart from pounding wildly in her chest.

"We...we can't, Emma."

Snapping back into reality at Regina's declaration, Emma's eyes went cold and hurt crossed her features. She was being rejected, _again_.

"Oh, of course, wouldn't want to —"

Regina captured her lips in one last searing kiss; she didn't want to hear what Emma had to say next, she didn't want to push them over the ledge where there was no turning back. As their lips parted one more time, Regina sighed, her mouth lingering for just a moment more. "If only you weren't so _self-righteous_."

She promptly extricated herself from Emma's body, stealing one last glance as she walked away from the balcony, leaving a bewildered Emma in her wake. Through the window and nearly out the door, her heart tugged her back as though completely out of her control. Walking briskly over to Henry, she brushed the hair away from his eyes and leaned down to kiss the top of his head before leaving the bar to run off her feelings once more.

 

\--------

 

As Emma awoke the next morning to the TV roaring, headache from hell already making its unwelcome appearance, she closed her eyes again and pulled her pillow out from under her head, placing it on her face in an attempt to block out all sunlight. Regina's unexpected arrival the night before left her feeling conflicted. On one hand, she was pissed. Pissed that she'd allowed their chemistry to pull them together into what _almost_ became something they both would have regretted.

Thinking back to the way Regina's body moved against her, as if they were being pulled deeper into one another, she shuddered. It had been what they both wanted for as long as they'd been unofficially dating, or whatever it was they were doing. They always found themselves lost in touches or stolen glances. Chemistry was and never would be their problem. It was Regina's inability to stand up to _anything_ that became an obstacle. Her mother. Robin. Robin's father. Her job. She let it all control her and Emma had no idea why.

In theory, she should never want to speak to the brunette ever again. She didn't feel _used_ necessarily, she felt _attached_ with no way of disconnecting, or connecting either, for that matter. They were stuck in a limbo and they both knew it. It was why they fought, why they lashed out, why they'd both spent the better part of a month absolutely miserable and desperate to be next to one another.

But Emma's pride had been wounded. Sure, she could have waited for a response from Regina instead of just running away. She could have demanded an answer on _either_ night. She could have answered Regina's many messages and hashed it out through text messaging, as juvenile as that might have been. She could have done a lot of things differently, but she hadn't. While Regina's lack of response had been the catalyst to their tryst, Emma knew she had perpetuated the whole situation by allowing her jealousy to consume her at Robin's sudden appearance.

She also knew that Regina had been right. They _were_ supposed to be friends, above all else. They'd had that discussion more than once. That no matter what, Leila and Henry came first. And she'd gone back on her promise and essentially taken away the family the kids had helped them create together. And for that, she _was_ sorry. For that, her heart ached in a different way than it had from the rejection Emma felt by Regina. Grumbling as she finally climbed out of bed, she walked to her dresser and pulled out some clean clothes, looking at her rough appearance in the mirror.

Shuffling to the bathroom, she went about her morning routine, made herself presentable, and then went into the living area. Henry was already sitting on the couch, dressed and ready to enjoy the start of his last full week of summer. He ate his cereal with sliced up bananas; she was grateful Regina had shown him how to properly handle a knife and he was now able to do it on his own.

"Morning, kid. How'd you sleep?"

He looked up from his show and gave her a happy smile around a mouthful of his breakfast. Her head felt immediately lighter as she set about brewing a fresh pot of coffee. A bit of relief crawled in at her temples in response to his sunny, morning disposition. Even if everything else was a mess, he was the one bright light in her life that never extinguished. "I'm sorry we were so busy last night and I didn't get to tuck you in."

He shrugged, his ambivalence noticed and accepted as normal adolescent behavior. Her baby wasn't such a baby anymore, she noted. It seemed like he had grown two inches overnight, and his toes were constantly threatening to break through the front of his sneakers, no matter how often she replaced them.

"I'm going over to Leila's tonight, right? It's Monday and you said if we got our school shopping done, we could go camping in Regina's back yard."

 _Crap_. She'd totally forgotten about that. They'd abstractly suggested the idea to help the kids wind down their summer vacation (and manage to sneakily rope them into the dull task of uniform fittings and school supply shopping.) That had been weeks ago, but Henry never forgot a plan once it materialized in his favor.

"We'll have to make sure that's still something they want to do, okay? We haven't been together in a while, Leila might have all of her stuff ready to go."

"She doesn't," Henry confirmed absently, his gaze drifting back towards the energetic action-hero cartoon playing on the muted television, a spoonful of softened, milk-dredged banana making its way to his mouth.

 _Of course he'd know_ , she thought ruefully as she poured a mug of the black coffee. _But at least if I get up the nerve to go and talk to Regina, I'll have a good excuse_.

"Regina will want to." He said it with the utmost confidence, and her heart clenched in her chest at the thought that she could have done something to ruin a relationship he had obviously come to cherish and depend upon.

And he was right; no matter what had been happening (or _not_ happening) between them, Regina's affection for Henry had never wavered. He still slept over there to spend time with Leila as often as if _he_ were the one in a shared custody arrangement between the women. Emma didn't mind; as long as Henry was safe and happy, it allowed her to do her job and know that he wasn't lonely, keeping to himself upstairs in the loft. It had been good for him, she realized, to be a part of something like what the four of them had inadvertently become in such a short time. That was why she needed to at least _speak_ to Regina, to apologize. She couldn't risk losing everything.

She smiled, settling in the easy chair across from where he was perched on the couch. "I'm sure you'll be able to camp outside tonight, as long as it doesn't rain. I'll go talk to Regina about the school stuff, and then you'll probably just stay the night with them like usual, if that's what you want."

He looked down at his cereal, scrunched up his face in contemplation, and looked back to his mother. "Aren't you coming?"

Emma shrugged, walking over to the door to put her shoes on and grab her keys. She wouldn't be long, and Ruby didn't work at Granny's on Monday mornings, so she would be home with Henry. It would be a hell of a lot easier to complete her task if she could go alone, and she knew Henry wouldn't want to part from his gaming system for that long on one of his last summer mornings. "I don't know, Henry. I haven't spoken to Regina about it. Do you want me to?"

"Yes."

 _Naturally_. "Alright, I'll run over there and we'll figure out a plan. I'll be back in an hour or so."

 

\--------

 

Regina ran the whole way home, pushing herself harder than she'd ever done before; hoping to erase the evening, hoping to get rid of the feeling of Emma being _so_ close, pleading with her to take things to the next level, the feel of her skin and the taste of her lips. They all _really_ needed to disappear from her memory. The evening couldn't have gone worse if she'd planned it that way. And that was putting it lightly.

She did come to the realization that they were at a standstill. Emma wouldn't budge unless she ended things with Robin, which, admittedly, wasn't such a horrible request. She was uncomfortable with the situation too. She didn't want to hurt the man, she did love him after all, and what they were doing _was_ wrong. Delightful, but wrong. In any other circumstance, Regina would have left Robin years ago. She would have told him she was unhappy, no longer content with going about the motions of life and left; parted ways amicably, and been done with the whole thing.

But, like everything in her life, her mother made things messy. She wasn't even sure she could get out of the contract, legally, even if she fought her mother on it. However, she had never signed anything; it had been a secretive deal struck between their parents, when they were over the age of eighteen, and so the likelihood that there was any legal validity was slim to none. She knew that rationally; she was and would always be a lawyer first, mayor second. Ultimately, it was the fear that her mother would do something unspeakable in retaliation that kept her stagnant. And that was where they stood: on either side of an impossible fence that broke her heart with every link that was added to their obstacle.

She didn't blame Emma; she wasn't the bad guy in all this. They'd both hurt each other, but it was more out of frustration than anything else, so she couldn't stay mad at her. Emma had a right to her feelings and had a right to voice them, and Regina would never take that away from her. She cared about her too much.

At this point, though, she wasn't sure where they stood. Emma was in love with Regina. Regina was in love with Emma. And they were both in love with both of their kids. Their family _was_ intact, and would remain that way no matter if they were lovers or not. As painful as it would be if their little mess didn't work itself out, they would be together.

She sat at her desk, going over some of her daily paperwork, penning her name and stapling everything together as a knock sounded at her door. Her secretary wouldn't be in for another hour, but being home alone with a workless, stir-crazy Robin had sounded even less appealing than paperwork. She checked her calendar on her phone just to be sure she hadn't scheduled something and forgotten, but when nothing appeared, she shrugged her shoulders lightly to give herself a sense of calm, adjusted her blazer and slid on her shoes to make herself presentable. She folded her arms on the surface of the desk in preparation and offered a firm, "Come in."

The door swung open, and in walked the last person she thought she'd be seeing today. Her breath caught in her chest a little at the sight of the blonde. She wasn't sure what she was doing, if she was preparing to fight or preparing to make up. She couldn't know that, but she did know Emma had made the first move and for that she was grateful. Finding her voice, she smiled gently at the woman as she walked into the room and sat right in front of her. "Emma."

Emma nodded, handing her the peace-offering she'd brought with her: hot, fresh coffee with an intricate, stylish "T" emblazoned on the side of the plastic cup, a swirled _Regina_ written in the printed name box. She'd even gone out of her way to Tiana's Café again like she usually did for her, bypassing the more convenient Granny's just to gain a little favor by providing Regina's favorite coffee in town. "Just like you like it."

"Thank you."

They sat there in silence for a few moments, moments that seemed like hours but still felt more comfortable than they deserved to feel. Emma had the fleeting thought that it was supremely unfair how put-together and gorgeous Regina was; the only hint that something was out of the ordinary was the stylish, wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Her eyes betrayed her polished exterior, tinted red at the corners from previously-shed tears. Emma knew now that she hated to put in her contacts if her eyes weren't in their best shape.

They each waited for the other to be the first to speak, to break the silence that engulfed them. As usual, it was Regina. "How are you feeling?"

Emma laughed a little "Like hell, my head is killing me. What about you?"

Rooting around in her desk drawer, she found the bottle she kept close for occasions such as this. Popping open the top and shaking out a few pills into her hand, she offered them to Emma, who graciously accepted them, swigging them down with a gulp of her own coffee. "I appreciate it, but you don't have to take care of me. I did it to myself. Too much to drink and too long of a shift before that."

"Oh, Emma. Of course I have to take care of you."

Emma smiled at her, the way she did when she could see no other person in the entire world, and Regina's heart swelled in her chest at the implication.

"About last night, I'm...I wanted to apologize for how I acted. I opened my mouth when I knew I'd had a little too much to drink and I hurt you maliciously. I shouldn't have done that."

Regina shook her head slowly, looking at Emma with gratitude. "I shouldn't have come."

"Yes, you should have. We _are_ friends, above everything else, just like we promised each other from the start. And I forgot what was important and needed reminding." She reached for Regina's hand and encouraged the brunette to look her in the eyes, softly stroking the inside of her palm with her thumb to try and convey her sincerity. "I am sorry, for the things I said."

"I appreciate that. And I..." Regina looked away from Emma and quickly pulled her hand from the soft embrace. She knew Emma was trying to show Regina that she was going to figure out a way to make things civil and get things back on track, for _at least_ their friendship. And she missed their friendship more than anything else, so she decided to chance just a little more, an olive branch.

"God, I've _missed_ you. And that stupid smile of yours."

Emma's heart leapt in her chest. She'd missed Regina more than she could ever express and the fact that she didn't have to say it first, it _was_ her fault after all, made things easier. "I missed you too." She paused, contemplating how she should bring to light that she still wanted _anything_ Regina could offer her. "You were right, you know."

Regina blinked, surprised. "About what?"

"That nothing had changed. I don't _want_ anything to change between us. This whole fight is _stupid_."

"It is." She nodded, her heart fluttering at the sight of Emma's relieved smile. "I don't want us to be this way."

"I don't either. You know how I feel, and you know what I need from you. Whether you can give that to me now or not, I'll be patient. I'll wait for you to decide what you want."

Regina immediately felt some of the tension recede from her shoulders as she leaned back in her chair, regarding Emma with a curious expression. Emma sighed, closing her eyes and rotating her head from side to side. Suddenly, her eyes opened wide and she sat up, her back straight and body at attention.

"Oh. I forgot." It was most of the reason why she'd come in the first place, and her relief at the ease with which they'd mended their relationship (for the time being, at least) had nearly caused it to slip her mind. "Do you remember when we offhandedly suggested we'd both take the kids to get their uniforms and school supplies together?"

Regina chuckled a little to herself at Emma's clear annoyance. "Vaguely. Why?"

"Well, Henry informed me this morning that it was supposed to happen today. And that he and Leila were also going to camp out in your backyard."

"He's always welcome to sleep at my house, Emma, you know that."

"Oh, I know. I just wasn't sure if you had plans today and if you thought we should appease them since it's their last week before school starts."

"I've got a meeting at noon." She shuffled through her calendar once more and made a mental note to reschedule everything after her town budget meeting. She had been rescheduling things left and right since Leila's appearance into her life, but she found she didn't care. "But I'll be free around three o'clock. We could all meet there?"

"Absolutely. I'm sure Leila has already been summoned to play video games and is at my house anyway."

"True."

Regina shuffled her paperwork around to give her hands something to do, as Emma looked anywhere but at Regina until a few moments of silence passed between them. The air became charged with words left unsaid and both women started to feel that they were in such close proximity of the other, as if there were magic crackling in the air, pulling them closer.

"I could just...go home after shopping and they could leave with you if that'd be easier?"

"Oh, you didn't want to come over?" The hurt in Regina's voice was so slight, Emma nearly missed it; but it was there, and Regina cleared her throat around her next words in an attempt to sound casual. "You usually love nights when we spend time on the deck."

Emma shrugged sheepishly. She didn't know where they stood, let alone if she'd be invited back to the house after how she'd reacted the last time. "I didn't know if...y'know, I was invited."

Regina stood from her chair and walked the distance to where Emma sat, reaching for her hand and tugging her to stand next to her. Placing her left hand on Emma's chest, Regina moved in closer to make sure the blonde knew _exactly_ where things stood between them.

"There isn't a second I don't want you around Leila," she sighed, wistfully. "Or myself, for that matter. You will _always_ be welcome in my home. You have a key now for a reason."

Regina drew her bottom lip between her teeth and paused; Emma beamed, her heart quickening in her chest as Regina's fingers massaged the exposed skin slightly, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation of Emma's heart beating beneath her. _Only_ for her. And she knew it. "Tonight has one condition though."

Emma stiffened. "Name it."

"You have to try to at least _pretend_ you can stand to be in the same room as Robin. No snapping, no flashing your 'cold' eyes. He's a part of this family _sometimes_ whether you... _we_...want him to be or not."

"Is that what you want? Me to be there?"

"The answer will always be yes. I will always want you."

Emma allowed a tiny gasp to escape her mouth as she'd forgotten to check herself. Regina smiled softly, purposely leaving out a time and a place _where_ Emma would be wanted because it was _everywhere_ and _always_.

Emma leaned in tentatively, placing a gentle, quick kiss against Regina's lips. Just to make one last tiny peace offering to leave no doubt that things were going to sort themselves out eventually. "Alright, I'd better get going."

Regina looked at the clock behind Emma and nodded sadly. "You probably should, yes. Three o'clock at the teachers' depot across town?"

Emma smiled, pulling out from Regina's grasp to throw away her coffee cup, leaning over and pressing one last kiss to Regina's cheek. "It's a date."

 

\--------

 

Regina sighed, flicking her wrist gently to adjust the delicate silver watch so that it faced the correct way, and checked the time again. They were late.

 _Maybe I'm early_? She dialed back the last few hours mentally, skipping over the innately dull budget review and back to the moments spent with Emma in her first impromptu "meeting" of the day. No, she was fairly certain they had agreed upon meeting at three. _They're definitely late_.

She had just calculated a mental tally of the cars that passed by the quaint brick building she was leaning against (five red, two blue) when the sight of Emma's large black Jeep rounded the corner and pulled to a stop right behind the brunette's own, parked directly in front of the store. Regina grinned despite her annoyance at their lack of punctuality. She could already tell the kids were arguing (about something ridiculous, surely) when Emma hopped down from the driver's seat, and shot Regina a desperate, irritated look as she rounded in front of the car to stand next to Regina.

"I'm going to kill them," she complained quietly, turning to lean against the wall, leaving so little space between them that the outsides of their thighs were pressed together. Henry and Leila still hadn't exited the vehicle, and Regina noted that whatever they were discussing was serious enough that Leila was tying her hair away from her face, as she often did when she wanted to prove a point and found the boundless curls to be a distraction.

"What's wrong?" Regina asked, genuinely confused. In all the time they'd spent together, she'd never seen the two so at odds. They had connected from the moment Henry left his father's home and introduced himself to Leila in the car, and despite their age difference, they'd become the best of friends. It made Regina feel a little surge of pride in her daughter every time she watched them together; for a sixteen year old, she could have been annoyed by a child so much younger than her, but she never was. She played his games enthusiastically, listened to his stories intently, and made him feel special. Henry, for his part, could keep up with the girl on an intellectual level, and Regina thought that perhaps the two met somewhere in the middle in order to be so happy together.

But now, they were obviously in the middle of a heated argument, Henry shaking his head vehemently as Leila gesticulated with her hands, turned around in her seat to speak directly to him. As Regina turned to Emma with a curious look, Emma simply shrugged, obviously worn out from a morning spent with her sole focus on their children.

"I don't know. That's why it took us so long to get here. I couldn't get them through the door; Henry refused to leave until Leila admitted she was wrong, and she, of course, insisted that that meant we could all be stuck in the loft until they 'died a miserable death together.'" She quoted, her fingers indicating the quotation in the air in front of them. "They were fine! I went downstairs to check in my liquor order for _ten minutes_ and I came upstairs to World War III."

Regina laughed, a genuine, happy sound that made Emma's cheeks flush despite herself. It had been so long since she made Regina happy that she wasn't prepared for how it would make her feel to do so once more. Whole _._ Complete _. Like this was how it should be_.

Like they were a _real_ family, gearing up for the start of another school year, the last days of summer speeding by against their will. It would be nice to pretend, at least.

"I'm sure it's nothing serious," Regina grinned, chuckling quietly to herself as Henry finally popped open his door with a huff, his brow furrowed in irritation. He shoved it closed a little more harshly than necessary, causing Emma to flinch.

"Hey! Easy on the merchandise," She cried indignantly as Henry strode immediately towards Regina, giving her a hesitant one-armed hug. She warmed, squeezing him gently into her side in response. He wasn't usually very physically affectionate with her, but it had been a while since they'd seen each other. Leila hastily joined them, equally perturbed, her hands shoved into the pockets of her shorts.

"What's wrong?" Regina repeated, this time to the girl who was glaring at Henry darkly, with still a hint of laughter twinkling behind her gaze.

"Henry thinks Batman is better than Superman," she explained, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. "Which he obviously _isn't_ , but Henry can't accept that he's wrong."

"Because I'm _not_ ," he insisted furiously, clearly taking personal offense to the entire situation. "Regina, what do you think?"

"It's a trap; don't answer that," Emma warned darkly. She launched herself away from her resting spot against the wall (against _Regina_ ) and moved to stand next to Leila, hands sliding into her front pockets, looking very much like an older version of the girl. Regina was always amused by the fact that neither of them noticed how similarly they moved, behaved, _spoke_.

"I'm not sure I'm the most informed tie-breaker, but I prefer Batman," she stated, and at Leila's betrayed scoff, Henry stuck his tongue out teasingly at her. "Because he's fighting to avenge his parents' deaths, and took an impossible situation and turned it around to save other people less fortunate than he was."

Emma's brows shot upward in pleasant surprise at Regina's unexpectedly informed opinion, and Henry nodded furiously along with her explanation in solidarity.

"He's human. He's flawed," Regina continued, reasoning with the blondes directly across from her. "And Superman was just shipped down to Earth and has his powers innately. So while he's physically _stronger_ , he's not on the same level because he's not damaged."

"But Superman can _fly_!" Leila argued, looking at her mother as though she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I'm with Leila; I like Superman, too." Without taking her eyes away from Regina, she offered her fist for Leila to bump her own against it, and Henry rolled his eyes knowingly.

"No, you don't," he corrected, exasperation coloring his tone as though he'd had this discussion before. "You just like Lois Lane."

Regina had to bite her lip to stifle a laugh when Emma blushed, glaring at Henry playfully.

"Don't you need new uniforms?" Emma changed the subject, clapping Henry on the shoulder to turn him and usher him through the building. He skipped through the door Regina had tugged open happily, pleased that at least for now, he'd won. Leila shook her head at Emma's embarrassment, following closely behind Henry to enter, too.

Regina grinned, holding the door open for Emma as well. She was pleasantly surprised when Emma leaned her weight against the glass, placing her hand upon the small of Regina's back to guide her into the store.

" _Kiss ass_ ," she grumbled under her breath as Regina sauntered victoriously in front of her, following the children in their wake as they tore off towards the clothing section.

"You're just jealous I'm the cool one," Regina teased.

"Cool _and_ modest. Lucky me," she commented blithely, watching her son animatedly chat with the salesperson at the uniform desk as they grew closer.

"I'm pretty sure I just need some new shirts," she heard Henry explaining, the woman listening intently. She had fitted Henry's uniforms every year since kindergarten, and so away went his usually hesitant demeanor around strangers.

"You definitely also need pants, kid," Emma reminded him as she and Regina stepped up simultaneously behind where their children were seated on a long bench stationed before a wall of mirrors, two dressing rooms on either side. "You're growing like a weed. Hi, Ashley."

The woman smiled and replied a greeting, and Henry shrugged, giving the woman a knowing eye roll, to which she chuckled before turning her attention to Leila, who was sitting straight and tall, glancing around the room to determine which pattern of plaid she hated the _least_ , and hope against hope that it was the one assigned to Arendelle Academy.

"And what can we do for you?" She inquired politely, glancing between Regina and Leila as though trying to ascertain the relationship between them; she had never seen Mayor Mills to fit a child for school uniforms before, and didn't want to accidentally say something rude.

Regina placed her palms gently on either of Leila's shoulders as she stood behind her, smiling when the girl's body sagged in relief and leaned against Regina's torso. "My daughter needs five of everything to start at Arendelle next week."

"Well, not _everything_." Emma laughed, but was surprised by the confused look on Regina's face at her outburst. "Come on, Regina, she doesn't need five ties, she needs, like, _one_. And two sweater vests will do. You went to this school, remember?"

"I do," Regina nodded, gently dropping her purse into the space on the bench Leila had vacated when she followed Ashley into a dressing room, her arms being piled high with Oxford shirts, plaid skirts, and other uniform necessities. _Wow_. Regina quirked a brow, impressed. _That was quick._ "But I had a fresh uniform to put on every morning."

"Oh," Emma shrugged, swinging a leg over the bench to straddle it as she saw Henry take several pairs of khaki pants into the opposing dressing room. The kid always complained about this particular task, and yet somehow always took forever to accomplish it, so she figured she might as well get comfortable while they waited. "By the time I stopped growing I was Leila's age, and I only had two skirts. You just sit in desks all day; my mom said it was stupid to have more than that."

She plucked the rolled-up issue of this month's _Food and Wine_ magazine from Regina's purse, unfurled it, and began to flip through the brightly colored photos as Regina sat regally with her legs crossed at the ankles, the designer bag occupying the space between them.

"Well, I hardly think —"

The door to Leila's dressing room burst open and she emerged fully dressed, looking the picture perfect image of a private school girl, and Regina felt her heart both ache and soar simultaneously. While she would never get to see her little girl in tiny plaid jumpers with huge bows holding back her hair, she still looked pretty damn cute. Leila, however, didn't seem to agree.

"I look like I'm shooting a low-budget porno," she complained, tugging at the collar of her shirt in discomfort and shattering her mother’s wholesome image of her first uniform.

Regina gasped, glancing around to see if anyone had heard the brazen remark. "Leila!"

Emma barely glanced up, her eyes scanning the girl briefly from head to toe before returning her attention to a particularly interesting article about cheeseburger variations. "Nah. Your skirt's nowhere near short enough for that."

Regina blanched, smacking Emma's arm with the back of her hand. "Emma!"

"What?" She shrugged, chuckling as Leila fidgeted uncomfortably while a new employee measured the hem of her skirt to shorten it slightly. "It's not."

"It had better _not_ be," Regina warned, glaring at the seamstress pointedly, who ignored Regina as though she weren't even there. She'd hemmed thousands of skirts, and Regina was hardly the first mother to give her snobby directions.

"Three inches above the knee, not a centimeter more or less," Emma mocked, sharing a knowing smile with Regina. They'd had to abide by the very same rules. She frowned then, noticing that Henry hadn't yet come out of his dressing room. "Hey, kid, everything okay in there?"

"Fine!" He called, and the handle wiggled slightly before he exited, handing three pairs of folded pants to the awaiting Ashley. "These are good. These don't fit."

"Come on Henry, you know you have to get measured," Emma reminded him, exasperated. There was no way he'd had time to try them all, so she knew he'd simply fit into the first pair and deemed that good enough. One would think he'd never done this before, a fact that she mused upon verbally as he re-entered the room to change back into the freshly starched khakis.

"No such luck," Leila mumbled darkly, shooting a venomous glare at the top of the woman's head who was currently inserting straight pins at the adjusted hem of the pleated skirt.

 

\--------

 

When both of their new clothes had been measured and set aside for adjustments, Leila grabbed Emma by the hand and dragged her towards the selection of shoes.

"I'm not sure what's worse...penny loafers, or...Doc Martens?" She squinted as she read the neatly printed list that had arrived in the mail the previous week.

"Either way, they're pretty terrible," Emma commented fairly. Regina smiled as Henry rushed over to a far corner of the store, his own supply list crushed in his fist as he sifted through folders. She glanced between them, Emma and Leila in one corner, and Henry in the other, deciding which way she wanted to go. She felt a sudden presence just behind her shoulder, and turned to see their helpful assistant by her side once more.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, Madam Mayor?"

Regina smiled, glancing once more at Henry loading his basket with numerous educational supplies. She reached easily into her purse and produced a thick leather wallet, quickly unearthing a black, metal credit card.

"Yes. I'd like you to compile all the textbooks for grade five and grade ten, their uniforms, and whatever else they each choose, and put it all on my card."

"Sure thing, Madam Mayor." The girl nodded affirmatively, delicately accepting the weighted card and slipping it carefully into her pocket.

Regina sighed and turned back to face forward just in time to see Leila rushing towards her, shoving a box of shoes into her arms carelessly on her way to join Henry and choose her own pens, notebooks, and whatever else she desired. Regina had already ordered her a new backpack, and she couldn't wait to see the look on the girl's face when she opened it to pack her supplies and spotted the laptop she had purchased as an afterthought. She was a girl in high school, Regina reasoned, and she was entering an academically challenging new school.

 _Or you're spoiling her rotten_ , she heard in her head in Emma's voice, the same fondly mocking sentiment the blonde had shared when Regina told her about the gift.

Leila had finally gotten used to the notion that Regina _wanted_ to do these things for her. The first few times they had shopped together had gone disastrously. Regina would encourage her to try on several items of clothing, only for Leila to sneak a glance at the price tag and insist that she didn't like anything in the store. Eventually, Regina had simply observed the sizes she wore and returned later, purchasing everything she'd seen the girl merely glance at and put them into her closet without saying a word about it. Leila finally accepted that this was a part of her life, that Regina _wanted_ to take care of her, and allowed her to do so graciously.

For the last sixteen years, Regina had felt a small twinge of sadness every August when she passed row after row displaying neatly-wrapped packages of paper, fresh pencils waiting to be sharpened, or little girls holding their mother's hands as they'd chirped excitedly about what they wanted to buy. She hadn't thought she'd ever get to _be_ that mother, until now.

"Hey, Regina," Leila acquired her attention, stacking notebooks and various packages haphazardly on top of the shoe box Regina still cradled in her arms. "Thanks for holding my stuff!"

She called over her shoulder that she was going to look at the fiction books with Henry, leaving Emma to step up beside Regina with an amused smirk.

"Well, you wanted to be a normal mom who goes shopping for school supplies," Emma laughed, caressing the small of her back gently. "This is pretty much it."

Regina laughed, nodding agreeably as she realized that Emma was right. She dropped all of the materials in her arms onto the checkout counter in front of her, located conveniently in the center of the store. Emma deposited Henry's basket and nodded gratefully at Ashley, who had begun sorting and packaging their various purchases, including their uniforms. Emma knew that most people didn't get the department store treatment just for buying their kid's school things, but between Regina being the mayor and Emma's mother being the principal of the school, they were being taken care of like royalty.

"So, dinner tonight?"

Regina smiled, resting her hand against the countertop as she answered Emma quietly. "I was thinking of just ordering a pizza or two."

It may have been Emma's day off, but it was still the beginning of her work week, and while she wanted the kids to have their camp out and have fun, she wasn't particularly fond of the idea of putting a lot of work into it.

"Pizza's always a great idea," Emma agreed warmly, noting the card being slid gently across the counter and tucked under Regina's palm. Her forehead wrinkled slightly, a look of apology crossing her face as she addressed the cashier. "Oh, Ashley, I'm sorry. Are you ready for me to pay out?"

She fished into her back pocket briefly and came out with a small billfold wallet, flipping it open to retrieve the cash she'd need. She looked up expectantly for her total, only to see Ashley's confused hesitation.

"It's already taken care of, Emma," she explained warily.

Emma's brow furrowed deeper; she distinctly did _not_ remember paying for Henry's purchases yet. She saw Regina tucking away her credit card from the corner of her eye and it all clicked into place.

"Regina," she turned to the woman in wide-eyed disbelief. "You didn't."

"Didn't what?" Regina replied casually, oblivious to Emma's dismay. She smiled brightly as Leila and Henry appeared from behind a bookshelf, moving to join them and collect their bags, ready to go home.

"Pay for Henry's things," Emma mumbled, well aware of the inquiring eyes of the two employees behind the counter listening desperately. The rumor mill, if it hadn't done so already, would be flying about the Mayor and Emma Swan soon enough.

"Oh, that. Yes, I did," Regina confirmed, searching Emma's eyes as if to locate the problem. "What's wrong?"

"What's _wrong_?" Emma repeated loudly, crossing her arms over her chest insecurely. "You can't just —"

"Not here," Regina interrupted, noting the signs of an impending _Emma_ argument and the way both children were watching them intently. She wrapped her hand firmly around Emma's bicep, handing her purse to Leila without taking her eyes away from Emma's. "Leila, take Henry, and you two go and start the car for me, please?"

In a quick response to her plea, the two of them took off towards the door with the bags bouncing against their bodies in their haste to comply with Regina's request, and Regina directed a pointed look at the uncomfortable blonde.

"Outside."

She tugged on Emma's arm gently to make her follow, and before long they were stood facing one another directly on the sidewalk just outside both of their vehicles.

"What makes you think," Emma began furiously as soon as the door closed behind them, her voice low, "that I can't pay for my kid's school supplies?"

Regina startled, looking at Emma as though she'd never considered that possibility, because truly, the thought hadn't crossed her mind.

"Of course you can, Emma," Regina replied, stepping closer to her just a fraction. "I wanted to do something for him, for both of you."

"I never asked you to!" Emma exploded, backing away from Regina as she moved in closer. "I obviously don't make as much money as _you_ do, but that doesn't mean..."

"Emma, do you even know how much money I'm _worth_?" Regina interrupted sadly, and Emma noticed her word choice specifically, taking in the haunted look in Regina's eyes at the desperate admission.

Not how much money she _makes_ , Emma realized, but how much money she's _worth_. She knew that the two, at least in Regina's world, were very different situations.

"The amount I just spent on Henry," Regina continued quietly, her voice gravelly and deep as she moved into Emma's space once again, "If I dropped it on the sidewalk in cash right now, it would literally not be _worth my time_ to bend down and pick it up."

Emma balked at that. She had always known that Regina was wealthy, and she knew that they lived extremely different lifestyles in that respect, but she'd never seen Regina's actual reaction to it. Emma did well for herself, and they never struggled, but she couldn't imagine anything more. When Emma still said nothing, her mind reeling with the new information, Regina took one step further into her space, taking Emma's hands within her own and holding them gently.

"Robin's net worth, plus mine? That number is practically too high to even keep track of," she explained bitterly, and was surprised by Emma's immediate reaction.

"I don't want Robin's money paying for anything for Henry," she insisted firmly, her eyes blazing as they bore into Regina's own.

"Our funds are completely separate," Regina confirmed, giving a reassuring squeeze through their clasped hands. "I do things and I buy things for Leila because she's my _child_. I do it without even thinking about it. I do the same thing for Henry because he's..." She trailed off, the unspoken implication hanging between them heavily. "I do them for Henry too. Without even thinking."

She didn't need to say the words out loud. _Because I feel like he's mine, too_.

Emma felt an overwhelming flood of emotion at the suggestion and nodded through an apologetic smile, nearly leaning forward to capture Regina's lips in a grateful kiss before remembering that their kids were probably watching, they were on a public sidewalk, and they weren't really allowed to do that.

"Besides," Regina said playfully, gently hooking her high-heeled foot around Emma's steady ankle as she used her weight to stay grounded, drawing them together closely enough that it made her heart race, but not so much that they might attract unwanted attention. "You buy me coffee every morning. Eventually that adds up, you know, and then what would poor Henry wear to school when you had to tell him you spent his uniform money on coffee for the Mayor?"

Her eyes glinted happily as she unclasped their hands, untangled their limbs, and strode backwards confidently towards the Porsche that was purring quietly with the two kids waiting patiently inside.

"So we'll see you at home around seven?"

Emma gulped audibly. _Home_.

"Yeah, definitely," she agreed, waking around to the other side of her vehicle and opening the driver's side door in tandem with Regina opening her own.

"If it makes you feel better," Regina called out, leaning halfway out of the door before closing it behind her firmly, "you're more than welcome to pay for the pizza."

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

Emma, to Regina's surprise, held up her end of the bargain. She'd been polite and respectful and downright pleasant to be around since arriving at Regina's home for dinner. She'd watched the kids happily play in the yard, _torment_ each other, more accurately, and she and Robin had even spoken civilly about his new camping gear. She didn't care much for the conversation, but she felt the appreciative and affectionate waves roll off Regina in her direction every time she caught her eye. So, all in all, it was worth being on her best behavior.

As she fumbled with the rods while trying to construct the frame of the tent to the left of where Robin was hammering the tarp into the ground, she huffed to herself as it collapsed around her once again. He laughed at her fondly and offered to help her but she just shook her head and tried harder. "No thanks, dude. You just keep hammering in your stakes and don't mind me."

Henry sprinted past her as he went after the football Leila had tossed for him and laughed, taking his eye off the ball to watch the hilarity, only to have it land right in the middle of all the pieces and make a loud clash of noise. She threw up her hands in defeat.

"Henry! Watch out!"

He shrugged at her, leaning down to pick up the ball, and hurled it back in his sister's direction. "Maybe you _should_ let Robin help you, Mom. You're kinda making a mess."

Robin wiped his hands on his shorts as he stood up, walked over to her, and placed his hand on her shoulder. "It's brand new, Emma. Don't worry, I wouldn't have gotten it on the first try either. We can do it together."

Emma rolled her eyes but accepted the help, much to her chagrin, and after about fifteen minutes, Leila and Henry had a _humongous_ tent to call their own for the evening.

They both walked over to where Regina was perched on the swing, a tray of slowly melting drinks waiting on the side table next to her. Emma leaned against the supportive wooden beam holding the swing in suspension and pointed vaguely towards the monstrous tent. "That's an impressive mansion you've got there, Mr. Loxley. You could fit my entire bedroom in there," she snarked, trying to show him that she didn't much care for his overindulgence in things so _unnecessary_.

"Why thank you, Emma." He beamed brightly, oblivious to her jab. "I try to get out in the woods at least once or twice a month to clear my head. And this sort of bad boy makes being away from home _much_ easier."

Emma looked to Regina as hurt flashed through her eyes, her interpretation that the only thing he'd miss while being away was the comfort of his luxurious home. While she was definitely very much invested in her developing relationship with Emma, that didn't erase the many weekends over the years she'd spent at home alone while he gallivanted through the forest. She masked it quickly, catching Emma's eyes with a soft smile, and handed them both a drink. "You two must be _famished_ with all the work you put into that tent."

Leila ran up to the three of them, plopping down on the swing next to her mother, and accepted the proffered glass of lemonade with Henry jogging in not far behind, football under his arm. "Yeah, Emma. Must have really worn you out putting all the wrong pieces together and then having to undo and redo them..."

Everyone burst into laughter as Emma frowned, hiding her eyes from them all in slight embarrassment. "Whatever, it's harder than it looks."

She walked over to Henry, taking the ball from him and tilted her head and eyebrows up, signaling for him to go long. He took off once again, and she threw the ball as hard as she could, the perfectly spiraled football sailing into Henry's open arms. "At least I'm good at something."

Regina scoffed, shaking her head at Emma's competitive nature as she stood, making her way to the kitchen to refill their drinks, laughing along the way. Emma turned her head and watched her go, missing the football as it slammed into her chest with Henry's tardy "Heads up, mom!"

"Look alive, Swan," Leila jeered teasingly, and Robin replaced Regina on the swing next to the girl, throwing his arm casually over the back of it around Leila's shoulders. He watched the end of the yard near the fence where Henry was waiting patiently for her to throw another well-placed ball, and squeezed Leila's shoulder affectionately. Emma gripped the football tightly at the sight, that familiar envious tickle crawling around inside her body. _This is my family. Hands off_.

She thought immediately of Regina's reaction if her behavior slipped, and plastered on a fake smile as she threw the ball through the air once more into Henry's capable hold.

"Who wants pizza?" Regina called, and laughed happily as four people rushed towards the small round table where she was placing four large boxes onto the surface, a stack of paper plates resting on top. She retreated into the kitchen briefly, then returned with five crystal glasses on a tray in one hand, an ornate pitcher of fresh lemonade in the other.

 _Leave it to Regina to class up a pizza party,_ Emma grinned to herself, pushing Henry's chair in gently and then taking the seat next to him.

"Who all, exactly, did you think you were feeding, Emma?" Regina asked playfully, waiting patiently for Robin to separate the boxes: two ended up on one side of the table in front of Regina and Leila, the other two for Emma, Henry, and Robin.

"Well, I had to get something for everyone," Emma justified, dragging a piece from the top box onto her plate, a hot string of cheese stubbornly remaining joined to the rest of the pie. "Mushroom and pineapple for you, cheese for Leila, meat lover's for Robin, sausage for me and Henry..."

"You didn't have to get each of us a _whole_ pizza," Regina teased, her eyes shining as she folded her own slice in half before taking a small bite, gently wiping away the cheese that stuck to her chin.

"You got Robin meat lover's and you think I'm sharing with _you_?" Henry cried incredulously, shifting the boxes to reach into the one on the bottom, emerging with a triangular slice loaded with bacon, pepperoni, meatballs, and sausage. "You're crazy."

Emma narrowed her eyes playfully at him as she shoved nearly the entire piece into his mouth in one gigantic bite. _Traitor_.

"I don't get why pizza has to have so much stuff on it anyway," Leila commented, plucking the layer of cheese from her own plain slice and popping it into her mouth. "There is nothing more beautiful in this world than cheese and tomatoes together."

"Amen," Robin praised, and Emma shot him a side glare.

"You have the most toppings of anyone," she argued, and Regina sent her a bemused smirk.

"But the foundation of it all is cheese and tomatoes," he reasoned, giving Leila a wink, and Emma wanted to punch him. "So, Leila's right."

"As usual," she quipped, and Henry laughed.

It wasn't long before, surprisingly, the majority of their dinner was demolished, leaving Regina to consolidate the leftovers for another day, and Robin building a fire at Leila's request within the fire pit not far from where they'd lodged the tent. The end-of-August air had become significantly more breezy in the evenings, and the garden was bathed in a soft glow as the twinkling, automatic strings of lights along the fence illuminated when the sun dipped lower in the sky.

It was a perfect night to commemorate the end of summer, Emma thought, and it was only slightly dampened by the presence of the man for whom she felt the most ire. But he had been perfectly lovely, polite to her kid, and attentive to Regina. There was nothing more she could have asked from anyone; it was just an impossible situation.

"Are you alright?" He asked, a touch of sincere concern in his voice, removing Emma from her reverie as she watched him stoke the building flames.

 _Yeah, no problem, I'm just hopelessly in love with your fiancée_.

"I'm good," she smiled tightly. Where the hell was Regina?

"Mom," Henry called out to her as he walked through the door from the kitchen with Leila following him, a large wireless speaker in her hands. "Can I use your phone to play music?"

"Sure, kid," she dug in her pocket for the device, tossing it to him gently when he was within reach. "What do you want to play?"

"Something upbeat," Leila suggested, taking the phone from Henry to establish the connection and get the music going. "Not the jazzy crap Regina likes."

"I resent that," came a voice from behind them, startling both Henry and Leila as Regina stepped around them and sat regally in one of the outdoor chairs Robin had arranged for the five of them. "My taste in music is just fine."

"Of course it is," Robin agreed with a laugh, leaning down to place a rough kiss on her cheek as he occupied the chair next to her, leaving Emma the only option of sitting across the fire from both of them. _Well, that's perfect, a front-row view_.

Leila shuffled through songs impatiently, only allowing most of them to play for half of their actual length. They all sat in companionable silence; Henry, with his book of fairytales spread open across his lap, casting curious glances between Emma and Regina every few minutes; Robin, checking his phone periodically for fantasy football updates; Regina, tapping her foot to the beat of the music as it changed and flowed; and Emma, trying like hell not to stare at Regina but ultimately failing when she looked so beautiful by the fire's light.

A sensual, distinctly Latin beat began to thrum through the speakers and Leila grinned, setting the phone to the side and jumping up excitedly. She knocked the book out of Henry's lap, earning an indignant protest from the boy, and yanked him up by the arm, dragging him into the empty, grassy area beside the fire pit.

"I can't dance by myself!" She explained, wiggling her hips excitedly, and Henry looked up at her like she'd sprouted a third eye.

"You think _I_ want to dance?" He questioned in disbelief, looking to Emma for support. "I can't dance."

"Come on, it's fun!" Leila encouraged, shimmying her shoulders playfully and spinning in place. She looked like an idiot, Emma thought fondly, but there was no denying that the girl had rhythm.

"Regina and I can show you," Robin suggested easily, looking to his left for confirmation from the brunette. Emma glanced at them, measuring Regina's response, her throat burning tightly. If she didn't like the thought of Robin touching Regina, she definitely didn't want it to be done right in front of her.

"You know how to dance? Like, for real?" Henry asked, dropping into his chair once more to get away from Leila's enthusiastic movements.

"We do," Regina confirmed, her eyes briefly drifting to Emma's tense stance; she had her gaze trained specifically on Henry, and Regina knew that she probably wouldn't like this very much.

"Yeah, show us!" Leila cheered exuberantly, and Regina sighed internally, knowing even as she took Robin's outstretched hand that it was a bad idea. Leila skipped back in the direction of her chair as Robin and Regina stood calmly facing each other, their faces dimly lit by the glow of the fire. Regina couldn't help the little smile that overtook her face at the muted excitement in his eyes; it had been years since they'd danced together.

Leila set the song to repeat and flopped into her chair, watching the couple intently as they found the rhythm, communicating silently while they waited for the right moment to begin.

Suddenly, they were everywhere, and while Leila cheered them on happily, Emma's first thought was to be impressed. They were obviously talented, moving in tandem as though they'd done this hundreds of times before. Regina's hips swung fluidly back and forth as Robin twirled her expertly in his arms, and Emma felt her mouth go dry at the sight.

They moved as though they were flying, tilting in and out of each other's embrace, and Regina shimmied her shoulders, throwing her head back in delighted laughter at Robin's responding shake of his hips. It was clear that she was consumed by the music, looking perhaps lighter than Emma had ever seen her before. It was beautiful.

It made Emma want to cry.

Regina rotated her pelvis in rapid circles, her arms effortlessly snaking through the air as Robin placed his hands on her hips from behind, swinging back and forth with her in time to the beat. They looked completely natural, like they belonged together. Leila jumped up then, rushing past Emma, and grabbed Regina by the hands, taking over Robin's task of spinning her around. Their moves were much more awkward and stilted together, but Regina grinned and continued dancing anyway, enjoying the way Leila replicated her moves each time she made them. They weren't perfect partners, the way she and Robin nearly were, but they made up for it with enthusiasm.

If Regina had to pick her favorite moment the two of them had had together thus far, this would probably have been it.

Robin fell into his chair with a tired sigh, slightly out of breath from his effort, and Henry reached over to give him a high five. As the song came to a close with the fading sound of percussion, Regina rocked a little in place, bringing her body to a natural halt as she touched her flushed cheeks, giggling happily as Leila continued to shimmy and shake around her, already immersed in the next song. She shook her head, glancing around the fire at a worn-out Robin and gleeful Henry, her eyes finally landing on Emma, who was giving her what may have been the most conflicted smile she had ever seen, tears beginning to fill her eyes.

"You guys were awesome, I'm very impressed," Emma commented with Robin looking at her smugly. He _knew_ they were impressive dancers, and he was proud of it. Emma winked at him and shrugged as he laughed, standing up from her chair. "I have to go to the bathroom, does anyone need anything while I'm gone? Marshmallows? S'mores stuff?"

"Yeah!" Both kids whooped in unison. They had been having the time of their lives and it made Emma happy that she could at least have a little part in that. From football and pizza to dancing, it was a great evening. And yet, her heart still sank as she watched Regina sit, crossing her legs, and she placed her hand gently atop Robin's when he rested his comfortably on her knee.

Emma didn't blame him _or_ Regina. The evening hadn't been as horrible as she'd expected. Robin had welcomed her and they'd all fallen into an ease together that _felt_ like they were all a family. And she appreciated that. But _her_ role in that family left her feeling a little on the outs. Sure, she'd been included and laughed and joked around with all of them, but she couldn't truly be herself. She couldn't touch Regina, she couldn't kiss her or talk to her with ease like they'd done so many times before. She didn't really belong here.

But Henry and Leila did. And that was what made her so sad.

And so she left the backyard, hoping for a little space. She climbed the stairs and went up to Leila's room to sit on the bed, closing the door behind her and flipping the lock, praying that no one followed her for at least a little while.

 

\--------

 

Emma hadn't planned to go through Leila's nightstand; it was half-opened, probably from the girl searching haphazardly for stray hair pins that always found their way into the strangest places, and as she went to close the drawer for her with a laugh, she noticed something drawn together with white lace, Regina's beautiful script elegantly penned Leila's name on the front.

She pulled out the cluster of what she assumed were letters, one sliding from its holder and falling to the floor. She quickly snatched it up, placing the rest of the pile on Leila's pillow as she ran her finger under the lip of the envelope. She knew she shouldn't read it, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her and she wanted to know what Regina had said to the girl.

Unfolding the parchment, she began to read.

 

> _My Little One,_
> 
> _Today isn't your birthday as I'm sure you know. It's actually mine. I turned twenty-three today, but it seems like forever ago you were mine. I've found some cathartic release in writing these letters to you. I don't know if that's my right, if I deserve a sense of peace about you, but I know you'll never read these so I guess a moment of being free from guilt is okay._
> 
> _You see, I found a contract my mother drew up arranging my marriage and future children to a man named Robin. I've known him since the beginning of college and he's a decent man, but he's not one I would ever choose for myself. I suppose it's time to tell you a bit about her. I've tried to shelter you from her for too long now, it's only fair you understand._
> 
> _My whole life has centered around being a prize to be won by the highest bidder. Not only the highest bidder, but the bidder with the most power, wealth, and status. I am a trophy. I've never felt what it's like to be loved by my own mother. As a child I desperately dreamed of being held and loved and sung to in a way only a mother can do, but for as long as I can remember, I never had any of those things. I was barked at, manipulated, guilted, made to feel ashamed, made to feel like everything about myself was controlled and molded into what my mother wanted._
> 
> _I've never told you why I gave you up, my dear sweet little one. It's because of her. I knew that she would see you as either something terrible and damning, a problem that needed to be solved; or she would use you as a pawn as she did with me my whole life. I couldn't let that happen to you._
> 
> _I don't remember a lot about my pregnancy, honestly. I supposed it was all a very stressful and traumatizing experience and I must have blocked it out, but I do remember right before you were born. I made the decision to give you up while my mother was overseas. Luckily, just as you really began to grow, she left, demanding that I lose the weight I'd recklessly gained. I remember at the airport she simply said I needed to be "desirable" to a man if I'd ever find a husband and if I hadn't lost it by the time she arrived home in a few months, there would be consequences._
> 
> _While she was away, I told only one person the truth, the only friend I really had, a lovely girl named Tinkerbell. Even though I didn't have the right, I made her your godmother because she kept you safe by keeping my secret. She also keeps me sane by allowing me to talk about you sometimes. I can't think of someone that better qualifies, even if you already have your own godmother. I suppose there's nothing wrong with having two. Twice the love, twice the protection, twice the support. I hope someday you'll be able to meet her._
> 
> _There are so many things I wish I could teach you. That I could warn you about. That I could protect you from. For instance, I hope you'll never feel the distinct disappointment of caring for someone who doesn't return your love, the way I always have._
> 
> _I still love a woman, you see. A beautiful, funny, lovely girl. She's the kind of person that lights up the room whenever she walks into it. Her eyes shine and she bears the depths of her soul through them. And I see her soul every time I catch her eye. I wish desperately to love her outside the comfort of my own heart and now, I suppose, the comfort of this letter to you, but I'm afraid she does not see me in the same way._
> 
> _We spoke to each other one night long ago, we shared deep, intimate thoughts. We shared our hopes and our dreams. She told me how she'd always noticed the way I looked at her with such understanding that it made her nervous. That someone she'd barely known could feel so strongly about her. I explained that I didn't understand the connection, but it's always been there. She'd always noticed me, little one. My heart soars at the recollection._
> 
> _I'm afraid that my love is not reciprocated, and I'm sure someday you will come to understand the pain that comes with that. Emma (her name) told me she loved another. It was cruel, but her eyes deceived her. Sometimes, life goes that way._
> 
> _It doesn't much matter anyway, as Mother laid out my path for me again, and has made it clear that should I deny her plan, any dream I have of becoming a lawyer and doing some good in the world will never come to fruition. I realize that it may sound a bit dramatic to you, love, but the power my mother wields is truly a force to be reckoned with. Should you and I ever meet, it is important to me that I will be able to show you that I've made something of myself. I want to be someone you can be proud of, someone worthy of you._
> 
> _I hope you will never be forced to do or be anything other than what you wish to be. I want so much more for you than this. More for you than an arranged marriage to a man who is simply not right for me. I want you to find your Emma and follow your dreams and never feel lost or alone._
> 
> _I'm sorry to unload all of this on you, little love. Sometimes, I'm not quite sure where else to turn. Thank you for listening._
> 
> _Always,_
> 
> _Regina_

 

\--------

 

Emma finished the letter and immediately felt as though she'd invaded Regina's privacy. She couldn't believe that the woman had spent _years_ writing letters to her daughter, never knowing whether she'd get the chance to read them. It was heartbreakingly sad and Emma clutched just above her heart and rubbed softly at the dull ache it made her feel inside. She reached over to the pile, not wanting to read any more without permission, and tucked the one in her right hand inside the bouquet of letters. She quickly placed them back into the drawer and sprawled out on Leila's bed to think.

Regina had never mentioned much about the contract that her mother had drawn up besides what she accidentally revealed the night she was drunk at the hotel, and Emma had never really pried because she didn't know if she'd actually believed it was a _thing_. But clearly it was a very big one.

She also couldn't believe that Regina had felt that way about her for so long. That it was more than just a simple crush. She felt _connected_ to Emma in a way even she couldn't understand. Emma, quite honestly, didn’t even remember the night to which a twenty-two year old Regina could be referring. She immediately felt guilty over using her 'unrequited love' as a weapon the night before. Because Regina _had_ told someone, the only someone she felt safe enough to share it with. Leila.

It hurt Emma how Regina had been in enough pain to write a letter to her daughter, wishing she'd never have to experience the same sensation. She'd known Regina had a level of depth to her that she hadn't been quite tapped into yet, but this, this was beyond what Emma could have understood about the woman.

It was endearing. Beautiful. It was unsettling that if her life had gone in a different direction and she hadn't been in love with Ruby at the time, she could have been with Regina and none of this pain she felt now would come to be. Or maybe it was Emma's price to pay for leaving such an amazing woman behind.

A small knock on the door broke her thoughts as she hopped up and immediately rushed to quietly unlock the knob before whoever was on the other side tried to come in. She rushed back to the bed and leaned back against the pillows, letting out a soft, "Come on in." and waited for the intrusion.

"Hey," Regina greeted her softly, pushing the door all the way open and stepping into the room with her arms wrapped around her torso. "Are you alright?"

Emma wasn't, and Regina knew that, but there wasn't much else she could think to say. It was clear, at least to her, why Emma had torn into the house and not returned within a normal amount of time. It had only taken a few minutes to find her, but she knew, at least for those few minutes, she wouldn't be missed.

Robin had quietly excused himself to her study, accepting a call from Paris that he claimed would take awhile for him to conclude, and Leila and Henry were compiling their usual array of pillows and blankets to furnish their camp out.

She watched as Emma sat dejectedly on the bed, and took her own seat at the desk chair opposite her, several feet between them that stretched like a yawning, black chasm.

"I'm sorry for the dance," Regina began apologetically, searching Emma's eyes earnestly. "You can't have enjoyed watching that."

"It wasn't my favorite thing," Emma agreed shortly, avoiding Regina's imploring gaze. She knew as soon as she looked at her, she wouldn't able to stew within her own fraying emotions, and she needed to hold onto them for just a moment longer. Before the silence could stretch between them, a sudden thought occurred to Regina and she stood abruptly, striding towards the bed and holding her hands out to Emma, palms facing upward.

"Dance with me."

Emma's head snapped up, looking at Regina against her will, and she frowned, shaking her head. "Wait, what?"

A wicked smirk overtook Regina's mouth, and she closed the rest of the distance between them, taking Emma's hands within her own and pulling her up to standing, their bodies little more than the space of a breath apart.

"Why not?"

Emma considered the question, her heart racing at the feeling of Regina's fingers tracing the lines on her palms as she waited patiently for an answer, looking directly into Emma's eyes.

"I don't think it'll be the same."

Regina considered that as she stepped slowly out of her heels, kicking them to the side gently, and increased the small height difference between them. She tilted her head as she asked Emma a gentle, quiet question.

"Do you love me?"

The answer was immediate. "You know I do."

"Then it'll be the same." For once, the words didn't feel like barbs and neither used them like a blunt-edged weapon. She disentangled one of her hands from Emma's and allowed it to travel up her frame and rest upon her shoulder, the other hand pulling their clasped ones out and to the side of their bodies. Emma's free hand found its way naturally to Regina's waist, and as they began to sway freely, effortlessly, Regina rested her cheek against Emma's shoulder, sighing contently into her neck. "It's about the connection. Intimacy. Two bodies working together as one."

"I never thought that was something you had with him," Emma softly commented, her nose tucked against the top of Regina's head, her own feeling light in response to the press of their bodies against one another and the alluring scent of Regina's floral shampoo. With her shoes off, Emma had never noticed how _tiny_ Regina could feel, even at a similar height. How someone so commanding, with such a strong physical presence could easily and comfortably fit into Emma's embrace.

Emma paused. "I know how long you've been together, and it was bound to show, but..." she went on, uncomfortable about what she was going to admit aloud, relishing in being hidden from Regina's gaze. "Watching you with him, watching how in sync with him you were, it made my heart _ache_. Because I'm afraid I'll never get the chance to be that close to you."

Regina nodded her understanding as they turned in a slow, lazy circle, dancing to music neither of them could hear but somehow both felt intimately. She pressed a confident, open-mouthed kiss to the junction where Emma's neck met her shoulder, feeling the rumble in her throat against her lips as Emma continued to speak.

"I guess I just didn't realize that you could _move_ that way...with him." She shrugged, and Regina's arm naturally wound further around her shoulder in response, her fingers gently stroking the back of Emma's neck at her hairline. She stopped their bodies from swaying as they settled in the center of the room. She pulled her head back and nudged Emma's chin with the tip of her nose, urging the blonde to meet her desperate, sincere gaze.

She couldn't help but contrast the two of them now, a task she usually forced her brain not to complete. Robin had been the first person to _see_ her all those years ago, at a time when she so desperately wished for it to be Emma instead. She'd allowed his warmth, his affection, his intimacy for as long as they'd been coupled. He made her feel _wanted_ , certainly. He touched her in the same patterns, stroked and caressed her body in the same ways, time and time again. He was dependable. Easy. Comfortable.

But Emma? Emma was electric. She was fire raging over Regina's skin, she burned brightly in the darkest corners of Regina's soul. She saw through to her deepest desires and troubled past and loved her anyway. _Loved_ Regina, so effortlessly. She commanded her body without even touching it, in ways she could never see coming. And to that, there was no true comparison.

"It's nothing," Regina assured her genuinely, her voice shaking under the weight of the words, "Compared to the way I move with _you_."

She felt compelled to _show_ Emma the sentiment in a very acute way, and lifted herself onto the balls of her feet to capture Emma's lips in a dangerous, stolen kiss. It nearly toppled them over onto the bed behind them before Emma could catch her bearings. She inhaled sharply at the dip of Regina's tongue into her mouth, groaning involuntarily at the sensation.

They were gradually losing their resolve as time rolled on, Emma thought, as the more often she felt the heat of Regina's breath in her mouth and flushed skin under her palms, the harder it was to force her body to stop. Her hands drifted automatically to the backs of Regina's thighs, preparing herself for the next move she could somehow _feel_ was forthcoming, and chuckled knowingly when she was _right_. Regina sprung up into the air and wrapped her legs around Emma's waist, quickly continuing the blistering kiss.

Emma held her against her body tightly, squeezing her closer by the seat of her jeans when Regina's fingers buried themselves within her hair. They constantly found themselves within this trap, so often that it made Emma's head spin. She would promise to keep a respectful distance and allow Regina the time she needed to sort out the details of ending her...arrangement with Robin. But they were drawn together almost constantly (by their children, by circumstance, by desire,) ending up so close that they could hardly resist temptation. Still, there he was, the unknowing blockade between them.

As Emma walked them slowly towards the closed door, pressing Regina back against it as she gasped in a way that made Emma's stomach drop, a precipitous thought punctured the blissful bubble in which she'd allowed them to surround themselves, however briefly. She reluctantly dragged her lips away from Regina's burning kisses, resting their foreheads together to allow them both a moment to calm down. But Emma wasn't ready just yet. She knew these moments were so fleeting and that they may not happen again, and so she allowed herself to revel in Regina. How absolutely beautiful she really was, especially flushed with passion and desire. They breathed together as one, stealing kisses and holding each other close, basking in this moment when they _did_ fit so well together.

Emma pulled back slightly, regretfully, and smiled that soft, sad, pained smile that somehow both melted and broke Regina's heart. Always telling her exactly what she _didn't_ want to hear. And as she shook her head, Emma bit her lip in contemplation.

"Robin... he's..." He was very much a presence in their life, in their relationship, tonight; Emma couldn't ignore that. And she felt dirty, all of a sudden, with her hands firmly holding Regina's body while he waited somewhere downstairs. This was wrong.

She hated it. She needed it. She _loved_ it.

"He's not my concern right now," Regina finished for her. It was easy, in these junctures, to let herself forget the life she'd always been expected to live. It was easy to pretend that it was Emma, only Emma. She dragged her fingers through the ends of blonde locks and squeezed her eyes shut against the diminishing light in Emma's own. She wanted to pretend, if only for a second longer.

"I wish he didn't have to be," Emma commented sadly. "But you and I both know that no matter how _close_ we become, he's still going to be right in the middle of us."

A burning lump formed in Regina's throat as she nodded dejectedly, swallowing around it. "I know."

"So, I should probably get going," Emma replied weakly, releasing her hold so that Regina returned fully to the ground. She couldn't behave so cordially towards Regina's fiancé for so many hours and then dive head-first into stolen, head-spinning kisses with his future wife; the woman he loved. It made her heart ache in a specific way she hadn't quite felt thus far. It hurt because it was so unbearably _real_ ; it was the ineffable reality of their situation.

The moment was undeniably over. Regina nodded once more, taking a shaky step beyond Emma with a pained, apologetic smile. She had lost control, she knew, but she could think of no other way to make Emma _feel_ the way she felt about her, so ultimately, she had stopped thinking altogether. It always got her into trouble.

One thing was for certain, though; she needed to do something to make a change in her life, and she needed to do it as soon as possible. She had been so consumed by the new challenges of motherhood, the new beauty of the family she'd found with her daughter, with Emma, and with Henry, that she'd pushed away all thoughts of removing Robin from that equation.

At least for tonight, she knew that her body would lie next to the man, but her heart and soul would be leaving with Emma.

"Come on," she suggested softly, turning to jerk her head towards the door. "Let's go say goodnight."

 

\--------

 

As far as Henry was concerned, there wasn't much else in the world he could need in order to be perfectly happy. He was wrapped within a cozy sleeping bag next to his best friend in a gigantic outdoor tent in the most beautiful yard he had ever seen, the very top part unzipped to show off the twinkling night sky. Their mothers had simultaneously poked their heads into the unzipped "door" opening of the tent some time ago; Emma, so she could let them know that she was leaving to go home, and Regina, so that she could bid them goodnight, pressing a gentle kiss to each of their foreheads before following Emma into the house and then up to her bedroom for the rest of the night.

It wasn't the first time Henry had slept there, by any means, but this time Emma wouldn't be staying with him, curled up next to Regina on the couch in the family room until very late, when Emma ultimately fell asleep sitting up, and Regina covered her warmly with a throw blanket before retreating to her own bed, leaving Henry and Leila to lodge wherever they desired that night. Henry sometimes slept in a guest room, but he didn't like the way the closet door rattled in its frame every time the air conditioner kicked on, and no one had warned him about the numerous _sounds_ an old, large mansion made in the middle of the night.

No, he was content to fall asleep right next to Leila, wherever she may be. She hadn't let anything happen to him thus far, and he had faith that she would continue the trend.

"Why do you think Mom didn't stay tonight?" Henry inquired curiously, his arm drawn up at an angle behind his head, which rested against his palm as they lay side by side on their backs, pointing out as many constellations as they could find.

"Probably because Robin wouldn't like that," Leila shrugged, forgetting for a moment that she didn't like to make Henry privy to the inner drama of their crazy, mismatched parental unit. She shrugged, breezing past it nonchalantly. "Or maybe she's tired of waking up with a stiff neck from sleeping on the couch."

"No, that's not it," Henry replied thoughtfully, his brow furrowing in contemplation. He had been developing a theory as of late, and his observations of the two women tonight had only strengthened his opinion.

"I need to show you something," he confessed, turning on his side and pushing up from the ground with his right elbow to hold his weight. "I wasn't sure before, but I think I am now. And I think you're ready."

"Okay, lay it on me, kiddo," Leila replied jokingly, but groaned as he produced the huge leather book from beneath his pillow. "Ugh, come on Henry, do you go _anywhere_ without that thing?"

"No," he answered seriously, sitting up on crossed legs and placing the book between them heavily. She rolled her eyes, wiggling out of her sleeping bag and sitting on it directly across from him. She felt around the ground next to her pillow for the little flashlight Robin had given her and placed it in the crease of the pages, looking at Henry expectantly.

"Alright. What's so important in that book now when you've read it eight million times already?"

"That's the weird thing," Henry began casually, clicking on the light and flipping through sections of pages hastily until he neared the end of the book. "I've read every story in here, I'm sure of it. But this afternoon, while we were waiting for my Mom to get here after we went shopping?"

He paused, and Leila nodded for him to continue. "I saw a story in here that I've never seen before. Look."

Henry turned the book around completely to face her, shining the small beam of light into the title so Leila could read it aloud.

"'The Tale of the White Knight and the Lost Princess'," she recited calmly, looking up at Henry in question. "So? What's this about?"

"Well...I'm pretty sure it's about you."

"Me?" Leila scoffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms indignantly. "That's stupid. Why would I be in a fairy tale book?"

"It's not just you," Henry explained patiently; he had expected it to be difficult to get her to believe him, and it was going pretty much exactly as he'd predicted. "It's them, too. The White Knight and the Lost Princess, they're our moms. And you're their child of true love. The Savior, destined to bring back their happy ending."

Leila took a deep breath and waited for him to continue. She'd always known that the kid was a bit eccentric, that he still held firmly to the belief in magic and fairy tales and the supernatural, but she'd never known him to be flat-out delusional before. But she decided, as with everything her brother told her, to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"So, which one of our moms is which? And what does the story say about them?"

"That's the thing, it isn't finished. All these stories have endings. All of them except this one. Why do you think that is?"

Leila shrugged. "I don't know, maybe it's missing pages?"

"It isn't. The binding hasn't been tampered with and there are a lot of blank pages in the back. See? Room to finish the tale. It starts with the Lost Princess running away from her castle. Her mother, the Evil Queen of Hearts had cursed her, forcing her to marry a prince of the neighboring kingdom to bring her great power and wealth. The kingdom of," he flipped back through the pages, skimming them with his fingers. "Of Nottingham. That's it. The prince was called Robin Hood! See? Even the names are the same!"

"Henry, lots of people are named Robin. He could have been named after the kid from Winnie the Pooh or something. Or the bird. Who knows."

He ignored her rationalization and pressed on, nonplussed. "The Lost Princess is obviously your mom. She runs away to the forest to start a new life. Just like your mom went away to Boston after she gave you up for adoption."

Leila's heart skipped a beat at the painful reminder, but she simply ignored the feeling and moved forward. "Okay, so I guess your mom is the White Knight then?"

"Yes. Born to take over the kingdom of the Swan King, the White Knight ran away too. She hated the confines of palace life and only agreed to be an heir to the throne if she could lead her father's army and win it for herself."

"Okay..."

"They met by chance, and the White Knight showed the Lost Princess the secret cabin she'd built to stay in when she needed an adventure. The Princess had magic and cloaked it with an invisibility spell so no one, human or magical, could find them and they were always safe when they were together."

He scanned through the book, skipping over the 'mushy' details of how they fell in love and planned to run away together, "...far beyond the reaches of any realms their parents could find them in." He pointed animatedly at the page where the Lost Princess tells the White Knight that she's going to have a baby, conceived through True Love's magic, and how happy they both were.

"See? The baby is you!" He exclaimed, but at her skeptical glare he continued, clearly needing to convince her more. "When the White Knight found out that the Lost Princess was arranged to be married to Robin Hood, who was the prince of the Enchanted Forest's enemies, she knew she'd have to fight and kill him, otherwise the baby would be taken away and used as a pawn by the Evil Queen to gain power in all three kingdoms."

"Henry," Leila began awkwardly. She was not prepared to give the kid "the talk," but she obviously needed to clear up a few basic details for him. "This is definitely something you need to talk to your mom about, not me, but it's not... it's not possible for our moms to both... _be my mom_. You know. Genetically."

"I know that," argued Henry with an impatient roll of his eyes. He was ten, but he wasn't stupid. "Maybe not in _this_ realm, but in that one _anything_ is possible with magic. And especially with True Love's magic. It transcends realms, and can even create life itself."

He pointed at her to indicate that she was the "life itself" to which he referred. She remained silent, giving him that same skeptical, hesitant stare.

"It says that the curse will weaken when the Savior returns, and all that was once lost will be restored. Including the White Knight's love for the princess and their child."

He pointed to a specific paragraph earnestly, jerking his head to the side in the direction of the house, as if to indicate he was talking about their parents. "Before you came here, my mom _never_ talked to your mom. I didn't even know her name was Regina, I just thought of her as the mayor. And we've been here with you guys pretty much every day since I got home from Boston."

"Alright, say if it _were_ possible. What's their happily ever after? They have a baby and that's that? Love wins?"

Henry looked at the book dejectedly. "I don't know if you're ready to hear the rest. Maybe we need to have another camp out and I'll reveal what the book says to you about the curse when you're ready. Maybe by then more of the story will finish writing itself."

"Alright, buddy, " she snorted, "You tell me when I'm ready. Now let's get some sleep. I know _our_ 'Lost Princess' likes to wake us up at the buttcrack of dawn to make breakfast before work, so we better get to it."

He nodded enthusiastically and turned from her. She pondered for a moment as he gathered up his things and got ready for bed. It wasn't a _bad_ thing that he believed in all this fairytale stuff, and it wasn't a bad thing he associated their family with it either. It was his brain's way of figuring out their mothers' complicated relationship and she supposed it was healthy for a kid his age.

She could barely comprehend it herself, but Henry had it all figured out for himself, and it was likely one less awkward conversation she'd have to have with him in the future. She smiled at him as he snuggled down into his sleeping bag, bringing his hands above his head as he looked up to the stars with a quiet yawn. Leila did the same, scooting down and pulling the blankets under her chin, looking to the stars above, grateful for this little life she'd somehow managed to find.

 

\--------

 

Their last week of freedom flew past, sneaking up on them in a way Leila had never experienced before. She typically just showed up for school when and where she was told, doing the bare minimum to get by and survive wherever she had been placed at the time. The lessons tended to run together or bump up against one another, leaving her lost and confused to the point that she'd pretty much given up altogether. Life had given her the short end of the stick, and she didn't expect much opportunity to recover this late in the game.

Regina, however, was of a different opinion. She meticulously ironed every piece of the girl's uniform and hung them neatly in her closet, wrapped each of her textbooks precisely within protective paper, and spent hours searching online for a specific, top-of-the-line (which Leila took to mean _expensive as hell_ ) calculator so that she would be well-equipped for the advanced math class in which she'd been enrolled.

Leila chased a lone piece of breakfast cereal around her bowl with her spoon, quietly allowing her nerves to get the best of her in a way that had never happened to her regarding her education. She tugged at the collar of her shirt, fidgeting uncomfortably, when Regina turned away from the omelette she had just flipped seamlessly in a pan on the stove.

"Are you sure you don't want anything more than cereal?" She asked over her shoulder, glancing away from the sizzling pan to check the girl's reaction. "It's an important day."

"I'm sure," Leila nodded earnestly, not wishing to attract any more of her mother's attention than she already had. Regina had wanted a picture of her fully dressed in her uniform, and as obnoxious as that had been for her, Leila could hardly blame the woman. It was the first "first day of school" Regina had ever gotten to experience. Leila posed awkwardly near the bottom of the stairs as Regina took one quick photo on her phone, sparing the girl more embarrassment by simply turning away, instructing her to go into the kitchen and choose something for breakfast.

As Regina joined her at the table with her simple cheese-and-herb omelette, they ate together in comfortable silence, Regina perusing the morning paper as usual, and Leila attempting to tackle the school's lengthy handbook for the third time since she had received it in the mail. After too many minutes passed reading the same paragraph over and over, she felt a grateful flutter in her stomach when Regina quietly left the table, rinsing her empty plate in the sink and loading it into the dishwasher as though on autopilot.

No one at 108 Mifflin had gotten very much sleep the night before; Robin was working, Regina had paced her study for hours preparing for a committee meeting, and Leila had slept fitfully on the couch in the family room, unable to get comfortable anywhere as her stomach bundled in knots over the thought of starting somewhere new, _again_ . While Regina wasn't necessarily in a _bad_ mood, she tended to have a shorter fuse when she was ill-rested and under stress. Leila prepared herself to catch her attention on the way out of the kitchen; she knew if she didn't get this off her chest, she'd never make it through the door.

She grabbed her mother's arm as she passed her on her way upstairs to dress for the day, effectively stopping her in her tracks. She didn't enjoy opening up like this; usually, she allowed Regina to do that instead, but the butterflies in her stomach and the potential disappointment Regina might feel towards her lingered and made her feel uneasy.

"Regina, wait."

She paused, looking at her daughter with an expectant smile. "What is it, dear?"

She took a deep breath and released Regina's forearm now that she held her focus. She turned and looked intently at her hand in front of her as she played with the corner of the placemat under her bowl, not wanting to risk the embarrassment of looking Regina in the eyes. "I'm not...smart. Not like you."

Regina laughed at the preposterous notion and turned to sit down next to the girl; she could afford to lose a few minutes of her morning routine to calm her nerves. "Of course you are."

"No, I'm really not. I'm not good at school and I rarely get along with the other students."

Regina placed her palm on top of the free hand resting on the table's surface. "Leila, you're one of the smartest sixteen year olds I've ever met. I'm sure you'll be just fine."

She shook her head, finally meeting Regina's imploring eyes sadly. "You don't get it, you're this, this... perfectionist, with multiple degrees and an entire library _full_ of books I've never even heard of. You're _really_ smart. I don't want to disappoint you when you find out that I'm not like you."

"First of all, being book smart and being intelligent are two completely different things." Regina clarified firmly, rubbing her thumb across the back of her hand soothingly. "You are exceptionally intelligent. You're wise beyond your years and you think on a deeper level than most adults I've encountered."

"Yeah, but..."

"I've had the best education money can buy my entire life." Regina cut her off, not wishing to allow the girl to further doubt herself. "I was required to be at the top of my class every year and was punished if I received less than perfect on _every_ assignment. I'm book smart because I had to be."

"Every one?"

"Yes. But I would _never_ require such a thing from you. We can work together to improve your studying habits and I'll do whatever I can to get you through this year while you transition."

"But, Regina, I..."

"Honey, you have amazed me with how well you've adapted to life here." She smiled softly, thinking of Emma and Henry and the comfortable, tight unit they had formed with Leila at the center. She had no idea how much she had changed them all for the better.

"You've been bounced around so much, and you survived. You turned out to be one of the most kind, thoughtful, perceptive individuals I've ever met."

Her eyes shone brightly, her heart nearly bursting with pride as she spoke feelings she'd kept to herself in order not to overwhelm the girl. "And those things cannot be taught and are far more valuable than being able to pass geometry."

Leila squirmed, uncomfortable under the unexpected praise."They won't get me a passing grade though."

"You're right. They won't." She agreed, her voice deepening as her tone wavered into regret. "But it isn't your fault that I haven't been able to provide for you in the ways you deserve. I'm trying to now. I promise, we'll get through this, together."

She shrugged again to brush off Regina's earnest profession. She wanted to believe what she said, but she had only been burned in the past. "I don't know, I've always disappointed everyone before."

"Do you trust me?"

"I guess."

Regina leaned closer still, bringing her other hand up to squeeze Leila's shoulder gently. "You could _never_ disappoint me. I'm proud of who you are, regardless of whether you're a straight A student or not. You're my _daughter_ , and I love you for you. Okay?"

They simply stared at one another for a few serious moments until a wide smile broke across Leila's face, initiating an identical one to blossom across Regina's very similar features.

"Okay."

Regina finally allowed tears to fill her eyes without abandon; she had been holding them at bay all morning, so as not to make Leila uncomfortable. But it was the first time in sixteen years that she was seeing her child off in the morning at the start of a school year, and she couldn't hold back her emotions at that thought any longer. She should've been there for _every_ first day.

Leila, sensing this need within her mother, allowed her to cry freely, simply squeezing her hand tightly and giving her a reassuring smile as sudden tears sprung to her own eyes without her consent. Regina had this annoying habit of making her feel a million things all at once, and it was too much for her body to handle without evoking involuntary feelings .

The slam of the front door startled them both, drawing them out of the introspective moment, and as they dried their moist eyes and straightened up, Regina's expression turned to a frown at the intrusion. She regarded Leila curiously, who merely shrugged, her mouth turning down into a confused pout.

"Hey, Mills women!"

Regina's heart began to race and a smile formed automatically at the simple act of hearing Emma's voice, and she wished not for the first time that her body would stop betraying her by reacting so instantaneously. The blonde popped her head around the kitchen door with an expectant look on her face, and then Henry popped in just below her, his smirk mischievous and eyes gleaming with that "first day of school" excitement that somehow could never be contained.

"Why, Madam Mayor," Emma commented in her mock serious tone, shooting Leila a sly wink before glancing up and down at the brunette's attire, still wrapped up in a long, silken dressing gown over her loungewear as she always was during breakfast. "You don't even have..." She checked her watch, her brows furrowing with fake concern, "twelve minutes left before you have to leave for work. Now, what will happen to the Mayor if she doesn't leave the house at _exactly_ eight-forty-five..."

She tapped her chin thoughtfully, ignoring Regina's irritated eye roll as she breezed by Emma gracefully through the kitchen door and up the stairs to continue the routine that Emma was in the process of mocking.

"Oh, that's right!" Emma called out after her, as though the answer had come to her in a sudden flash of enlightenment. " _Nothing._ Literally nothing will happen if you're five minutes late for once."

Regina had sent Emma a barrage of bossy text messages _much_ earlier in the morning, reminding her how imperative it was for her to be on time to escort both kids to school for their first day, as a brief teacher's conference delayed the beginning of classes by two hours, during which time Regina would need to leave for work. Emma knew, rationally, that Leila could have easily walked Henry the five blocks and two intersections between Mifflin Street and the intimidating, ivy-covered walls of Arendelle Academy. But if Regina couldn't be there to send them off herself, then she needed Emma to do it for her.

She didn't mind doing so, at all. She had always loved Henry's first day of school, traditionally making him an enormous stack of banana pancakes with a glass of rich chocolate milk to start the day in a way that was special to both of them. And now she got to share in the fun with not only her kid, but Leila too. Emma was happy, certainly. She just could have done without the commanding five a.m. diatribe from Regina.

"You know she can't even hear you," Leila commented blithely, "and you might want to watch out. She's in an unpredictable mood this morning."

She tossed Henry a muffin from the basket at the center of the table, which he easily caught and bit into enthusiastically.

"Henry, you just ate," Emma complained, shooting him a reproachful look. She didn't want to receive a phone call half an hour after dropping him off that he was complaining of a stomachache. Several minutes passed, during which Emma rifled through Regina's pantry absentmindedly, seemingly just to give herself something to do. "I can handle moody Regina. And besides, I don't need her to hear me for it to be fun. She just needs to relax, that's all."

"Yes, how _relaxing_ it must be to have so very little going on in that ridiculous head of yours," Regina interjected dryly as she swept into the room in a burst of color, a vibrant red dress clinging to her in ways that she ordinarily reserved for occasions outside of the Mayor's office. Emma's jaw dropped, but she recovered quickly as Regina whirled around to fix her with a withering stare, gathering her briefcase from a hook by the back door. "Unfortunately, we weren't all blessed with the luxury of ineptitude."

"Huh?" Henry grunted around his muffin, confusion wrinkling his brow. He was proud to say he read on a grade level three years above his own, but he sometimes had trouble following Regina's vocabulary when Emma did something to provoke her.

"She said Emma sucks, basically," Leila explained, earning her a betrayed look from Emma and an amused one of approval from Regina.

"Oh," Henry nodded, accepting the reasoning easily and continuing about finishing his muffin.

"Anyway," Emma drawled, shooting a pointed glare in Leila's direction before returning her attention to Regina, who retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge. "Do you still want to have lunch today?"

"I suppose so," Regina deftly removed the top of the bottle and tossed back a swig of the spring water. "Anywhere but Granny's."

"I was thinking Agrabah?" Emma suggested casually, removing a mug from inside a cabinet and pouring for herself the last remains of coffee from the French press. "I've been craving hummus for like a week."

Leila smirked and shook her head, unnoticed by both women. She'd been to the tiny restaurant with Emma numerous times over the summer, so she knew that Emma was a lot less motivated by the Mediterranean food than she was by flirting harmlessly with the extremely curvy, beautiful brunette who worked behind the take-out counter. But Regina was oblivious, so she allowed her to maintain the façade.

"That's fine, dear. Just place the order and come to Town Hall with it around twelve-thirty."

"You can...uh, if Robin's not busy, he can... we can invite him too."

Regina quirked an eyebrow in response, regarding Emma with an impassive stare. "You'd like to invite Robin to have lunch with us in my office?"

"Yes?" Emma winced, and Regina chuckled to herself at her discomfort. She was trying, and it was adorable.

"Well, that's very hospitable of you, Emma," Regina smirked, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "But I'm afraid Robin was up well into the night taking a satellite call from his Italian office, so I suspect he'll sleep fairly late into the afternoon."

"Gotcha." Emma smiled, relieved. _Thank god_.

Regina glanced at the stove's digital clock, fidgeting slightly in place. She needed to leave.

"Don't be late," she warned Emma, who simply rolled her eyes to commiserate with Leila as she blew into the mug to cool her coffee.

"Have a good day," Regina stopped at Leila's chair on the way out of the kitchen, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head, and cupped Henry's chin affectionately.

"Bye!" He called to her retreating form, the harsh closing of the front door the only answer in return. A few quiet moments passed, and then the sound of the door opening and closing quickly again startled Emma and Henry into wearing matching confused expressions.

"Forgot her phone," Leila explained.

Accepting this with a bemused smirk at the new discovery of a flaw in Regina, Emma clapped her hands together, glancing back and forth between Leila's and Henry's expectant faces at the sound. "So, we have like half an hour before you need to be at school... who wants to go stick Robin's hand in a bowl of warm water and see what happens?"

"No way, he moves around too much." Leila shook her head, shutting down Emma's (admittedly juvenile) idea immediately. She surprised her, however, by providing a better one. "Shaving cream on his hand and pillow will get him, though."

A brief flash of panic coursed through Emma's body at the thought of Regina's reaction to the prank, but it was rapidly pushed aside by the thought of _Robin's_. There was a hesitant pause during which the three looked amongst each other, measuring their options. When Leila's eyes met Emma's, she smiled, and their mouths opened to speak simultaneously.

"Blame it on Henry?"

He blinked and then shrugged gamely, which was consent enough for Leila to leap out of her chair, nodding conspiratorially at them and leading the way upstairs.

 

\--------

 

All things considered, it was probably the least Leila had ever done to land herself in the principal's office, and somehow also within the shortest amount of time. Emma had parked a block away from the ornate, wrought-iron front gates and walked them directly inside, an arm slung over Henry's shoulder on one side, with Leila shuffling her feet on the other.

Henry made to take off as soon as he was within the gates, his bag bouncing against his back as he strode with purpose towards the school to find his class. The first day was always specifically scheduled with shorter classes to review the "housekeeping" of a new school year: uniform policy, textbook maintenance, and classroom rules.

For Henry, it would be a variation of the same speeches he'd heard from different teachers for the last five years, and so he mainly just wanted to find his friends before they separated into the two opposing fifth grade classes. However, Leila, he realized, would be in a completely different building than he would be, as she was in high school, and they would rarely actually see each other at school.

Arendelle Academy was Storybrooke's only private school, separated into three large buildings housing the elementary, middle, and high schools within the same elite campus. Tension filled every nook and crevice of Leila's being as she squinted up at the center building with trepidation. The largest of the three, it would be where she would spend the next three years of her life attempting to convince her mother, her teachers and _herself_ that she wasn't in way over her head.

She was screwed.

Henry rushed back over to where she was stood next to Emma and grabbed her hand confidently to drag her towards the school, with little regard for the way her nerves were building steadily.

"Have a good day!" Emma echoed Regina's earlier sentiment, calling out to them cheerily to mask the emotion in her voice. Leila spared a wave over her shoulder as Henry continued to direct their movement, and Emma grinned, nodding a little to herself in satisfaction.

It was always jarring to watch Henry blossom as soon as he stepped within the grounds of the school. Perhaps it was because his grandmother was the principal, or maybe it was his propensity towards academia, but he came out of his shell there in a way that was unlike his usual demeanor. To Emma, he would always be her baby boy, but with each passing day he grew more confident, more independent. It was maddeningly beautiful to watch him become so much _more_ as time went on.

And Leila, too, was maddeningly beautiful to Emma. The girl had bloomed in her own way within the three months she'd lived in Storybrooke and brought together the most unconventional family Emma could ever have imagined for herself.

 _They'll be fine_. Emma reassured herself once more before turning on her heel, strolling down the block to her vehicle. She had a few errands for work to complete before she'd need to meet Regina with their lunch, and she tried not to be a little bummed that for the first time in quite a while, she'd be completing them alone.

 

\--------

 

Meanwhile, Henry had meant to just walk Leila towards her homeroom class, but she was stalling.

"Okay, Leila, my homeroom isn't in this building, so I need to go," he repeated patiently as she hovered outside the door to room 227, peeking in the little window every so often as students filed in through another door on the opposite side.

"So go," she grumbled harshly, not quite meeting his gaze. "No one's stopping you."

He smiled, seeing through her gruff exterior. "You're nervous."

"No, I'm not," she argued defiantly. "Go to class. I'll meet you at the front gate and we can walk to Emma's together. Okay?"

She gave him a thin-lipped smile and shoved his shoulder gently, jerking her head to the side towards the throng of teenagers milling through the hall.

"Fine." He nodded, giving her a knowing look. "Don't get into any trouble between now and then."

And suddenly he was gone, blending into the crowd within moments, and she was alone. Steeling her resolve, she gripped the straps of her backpack and moved to circle around the row of wooden lockers towards the other entrance to the classroom.

A hand on her shoulder stopped her, and she jumped, gasping sharply as she turned to apprehend the offender. An intimidatingly tall woman bent gently down towards her with a kind smile.

"Hello, are you Leila Mills?"

Despite the patronizing stance, the question was polite enough, and it threw her for a loop.

"I'm supposed to be here," she blurted out defensively, and groaned internally at how stupid she sounded.

"Of course you are," the woman chuckled, taking a small step back to give the girl some space. "My name is Ms. Dimattia. Before you go into your first class, I need you to come with me to the principal's office."

 _Henry must have jinxed me_.

She blew out a frustrated puff of air but nodded, following the teacher's clipped, purposeful gait down a grand staircase against an opposing flow of traffic towards a set of French doors. Her mind reeled as she was ushered into the waiting area, racking her brain to come up with any reason she could have gotten into trouble before even setting foot in a classroom. Her wait was short, however, and within a few minutes she found herself seated in an uncomfortable chair across an antique, cherry-finished wooden desk from who she knew to be Emma's mother, her new school principal.

The contrast between them was striking, she observed, and yet there was something still familiar about the woman regarding her with a curious gaze.

"It's nice to meet you, Leila," she began brightly, entering into their interaction in a way that was completely foreign to the girl. She was used to principals and teachers who looked at her with a vague sense of disinterest once they read her file, but Principal Swan was searching her face earnestly.

"You too," Leila murmured, glancing around the office at the somewhat unusual bird-themed decor. Her eyes trained on a particularly ugly, in her opinion, painting of a robin, and the woman smiled as she followed Leila's wary gaze.

"Oh, that," she chuckled ruefully. "That one was a gift from my daughter. I think she meant it as a joke, but I ended up liking it anyway. I guess the joke is on her."

Leila chuckled awkwardly. It was clear that this woman had no idea Emma had such a presence in her life, let alone that she was _technically_ her mother according to her birth certificate. A pang of hurt stung Leila's heart just a bit at the thought of being kept a secret, but she decided to give the blonde the benefit of the doubt and have that conversation later.

Shifting uncomfortably as her principal read through her transcripts and jotted down notes, she felt increasingly on edge. She had that feeling, the bad one that always accompanied getting kicked out of school or out of a home, and she just wanted to get this over with. She'd figure out how to break it to Regina (she _had_ warned her, though) that she had indeed let her down and would not be attending the high school where she had been the valedictorian of her graduating class.

"I don't mean to be rude, but um...did I do something wrong?"

"Oh!" Principal Swan cried, shaking her head vehemently as she continued, "No no, sweetie. I'm sorry, I was trying to figure out a new schedule for you." She folded and placed her hands down on her desk and smiled brightly at Leila, trying to convey a sense of calm to settle the girls nerves. "Of course you aren't in trouble, but I will need to speak to your parents about some lines in your transcript before you'll be able to go to any classes."

She smiled warmly at the girl, who grimaced at her awkwardly in return. _Who smiles this much?_ "Okay, I can...give you my mom's number if you need it."

"That's quite alright. I have this little policy, you see, that in order to establish a trusting relationship and bridge the gap between home and school, I allow _you_ to call your parents. That way they don't immediately go on the defensive because they're receiving a call from the principal," she looked at Leila poignantly; she was obviously trying to come across as firm and perhaps even somewhat intimidating, but between the cheery disposition and easy going nature, she was failing miserably. "And if you _do_ happen to get into trouble, you're the one who has to tell them of your misdeeds."

"Oh," Leila nodded. She still wasn't quite sure what kind of changes needed to be made to her schedule; Regina had enrolled her weeks ago, and she was under the impression that everything had been handled properly.

"Would you like to use my phone?" She offered politely, turning the bulky desk phone around on the surface so that the hook and numbers were accessible.

"Oh, you mean now?" Leila blurted loudly, and cringed for the second time at how dumb she sounded. _Of course now, idiot, you can't just miss class all day_.

Principal Swan nodded and reiterated the same basic idea as her internal reprimand, and Leila glanced at the proffered phone briefly before looking up apologetically.

"Would it be okay if I use _my_ phone? I don't...I don't know her number by heart yet."

The woman paused in confusion. _How odd_. She breezed past it quickly, nodding fervently in response. "Of course! Of course."

Leila smiled gratefully and shifted in her seat to swing her backpack around to rest in her lap. She dug deeply into the center zipped pocket for her phone, and in no time it was pressed to her ear, the extension of Regina's office ringing endlessly.

 _Looks like she's about to get a new secretary_ , she laughed in her head, and gave up the attempt after the eighth unanswered ring. She quickly tried Regina's personal phone instead, but frowned when it went directly to voicemail.

"She's not answering," Leila mumbled, unsure what options would be left to her now. She made a quick decision, choosing the next name in her phone's list of favorite contacts. "Let me try one more time."

 

\--------

 

Emma pulled up to Town Hall an unprecedented three hours early for their lunch date, knowing she'd earn Regina's ire for the interruption, but she hated the idea of returning home to an empty loft so much that she decided to bother Regina until she got herself kicked out.

Because Mondays were the only day of the week when the Rabbit Hole closed completely, Emma only needed to make a bank deposit before her "work" was finished for the day. She supposed she could go home and get a head start on laundry or dinner for the evening, but it just didn't hold the same appeal without the promise of a little one to keep her company, chattering about superheroes or their desired activity for the blissful summer nights that were now gone. She always had a little trouble facing withdrawal during the first week or so of a new school year. And now that Leila was around, she felt it double.

And so she found herself striding through Town Hall like she owned the place, following familiar paths up several staircases and through wide halls until she approached Regina's waiting area, blowing right by her distracted secretary and throwing open the door to her personal office.

Regina merely glanced up at the intrusion, her fingers pinched together against her forehead as she listened intently to someone speaking on the other end of the phone. She returned her focus to the screen of her computer, nodding absently in response to whatever her companion was saying.

"Yes, I completely understand," she replied evenly, a few harsh clicks of the wireless mouse punctuating her statement. Emma approached slowly, dragging the guest chair backwards to give herself enough room to sit, taking up an exorbitant amount of space as she stretched her limbs in all directions.

Regina cut her eyes towards Emma silently, her eyebrows raised and lips parted slightly in distaste as she shook her head expectantly. Emma could practically hear the _What the hell are you doing here?_ without the words ever leaving those perfect, red lips. The person at the other end of her call droned on, and Regina's eyes rolled in annoyance as she scrolled through page after page of an electronic spreadsheet.

It was always amusing to Emma that Regina, while clearly irritated by her presence, still allowed her to witness the emergence of her opinions or feelings when it was just the two of them, alone in her office. She let down her Mayoral shield and allowed every thought to flicker across her face while she worked, so long as no one was there to witness it.

But Emma was, and despite her reservations, Regina simply rolled her eyes and refocused on the task at hand.

As the blonde made herself comfortable, scrolling through her phone as she waited for the woman in front of her to finish, she laughed to herself at how expressive Regina was while she was on the phone. _If looks could kill_.

After a few moments of Regina's continued typing, occasional acknowledgment of the person on the line, and glares thrown Emma's way as if to garner sympathy that she worked with such idiocy, the loud ringtone assigned to Leila's number blared through her speakers, startling them both. Her eyes shot to Regina's murderous glare, and she held up the phone silently to show exactly who was calling, pointing to the screen and then rotating her hand in a circle to indicate that she needed to wrap up her call.

Regina's brow furrowed in concern, nodding distractedly as she held up one finger to tell Emma that she'd just be a minute more.

"Hey, kid, what's wrong?"

" _Okay...don't freak out, but I'm kind of in the principal's office_."

"What! You've only been there for half an hour, Leila! What happened?"

" _No, no it's not bad, I swear! She says she needs my parents down here right away. Something about a mix up with my transcripts. Could you, y'know, come now?_ "

"We'll be right over, I'll tell your mom."

" _Okay, thanks_."

Emma ended the call abruptly, turning around just as Regina slammed her phone down on its receiver more harshly than necessary. She stood from behind the desk, smoothing out her dress.

"What's wrong? Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Emma confirmed quickly, and Regina breathed a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing. "There was a problem with her transcripts, apparently."

"I swear, it is impossible for anyone to complete the _simplest_ forms of paperwork when it comes to my child," Regina growled, shaking her head as she gathered up her phone and keyring, halfway across the spacious office when her intercom buzzed gently. She and Emma regarded it warily together as the voice of Regina's overwhelmed assistant sounded hesitantly.

"Madam Mayor, your 10:15 with Mr. Gold?"

Regina blanched, and immediately returned to her desk, straightening her papers into neater stacks and arranging her supplies in a straight line.

"Speaking of botched paperwork..." She grumbled darkly to herself, and Emma's face screwed up in confusion.

"Aren't you coming?"

"Emma, I really can't leave right now, I have to take this meeting," she implored desperately, a tone which Emma had never heard her take past the point of stepping foot into Town Hall. "Can you please go there and handle this, and I will meet you as soon as I possibly can?"

"Yeah, I mean," Emma began, her brow furrowing more deeply as she thought about it. "I'm happy to go, but is it even something I can..."

She faltered, unsure how to properly phrase her next question. Sure, she had temporary joint custody, technically, though the lines had blurred irreversibly as time passed following the emancipation hearing. But did that mean she had parental authority, too?

"Yes, of course you can. You're her mother too, aren't you?" Regina questioned impatiently, smirking at her a little as she smoothed her hair behind one ear and pressed the intercom button with fervor. "Georgia, please send in Mr. Gold. Miss Swan is on her way out."

It was the first time Regina had acknowledged the legal importance of Emma in Leila's life, and it had been so casual, as if to say _duh, of course you're her mom_. It made her stomach drop in a way that felt so warm and inviting. Had she not been in Mayor mode, Emma would have waltzed over and kissed Regina gratefully for the sentiment.

But now, as she exited the office and crossed paths with a somber-looking man in an expensive, finely-tailored suit, she had no idea what to do next. It was _her_ mother, after all, who had the girl in her office with no idea that Emma was about to walk in and be the _kid's_ mom; especially because she'd never actually mentioned what had been going on these last three months.

It wasn't that she purposely wanted to keep the girl from her parents; they were just too _involved_ as it was, and she hated it. She felt suffocated and constantly on the spot. They meant well, of course, but being teen parents themselves made them overcompensate for _everything_ and she didn't want Leila to go through that any more than she already did with Regina's well-meaning but overbearing nature.

Despite the fact that she lived not even a fifteen minute drive from her childhood home, Emma rarely saw much of her parents unless they specifically asked to see more of Henry. They had a good relationship, certainly, but Emma found it so difficult to define for _herself_ the intricate relationship she'd so rapidly developed with the Mayor and her daughter that she had no idea how she'd begin to explain it to her parents.

 _Looks like you'd better figure it out quickly, Swan_.

She gulped, hopping into the illegally parked Jeep (she assumed Regina had something to do with the fact that she'd never received a parking ticket) from the street facing the front of Town Hall and turned the engine over, practicing in her head the answer to every question she could possibly anticipate from her mother about this unconventional situation.

 

\--------

 

Following what seemed like _hours_ of harmless questions regarding her educational background, Leila was more than relieved to hear the timid knock on the door signaling what she hoped was her mother's' arrival.

"Come in," chirped her principal, and the door swung open to reveal not both of her mothers, but simply Emma loitering in the doorway hesitantly.

"Oh, Emma!" Her mother greeted in warm surprise, but her features quickly turned down as her reaction morphed into confusion. "Sweetheart, I'm in a meeting with a student right now, can you wait just a few minutes for her parents to arrive?"

Leila titled her head to the side to bestow upon Emma a pointed glare, and the blonde gulped audibly in response to her mother's blissfully unaware assumption.

"Yeah, that's kind of why I'm..." She trailed off, gesturing vaguely between Leila and herself, and Mary Margaret's frown deepened.

"What on Earth are you talking about?"

Her eyes rolled up to the ceiling and back down to focus on her mother. "So, Leila is the Mayor's kid, right? Regina Mills. You remember Regina from...from school, and from her, y'know...being the Mayor..."

At Mary Margaret's increasing level of befuddlement and Emma's uncomfortable explanation, Leila dropped her head into her hands, shaking it back and forth slowly. Of all the times she'd been with a foster parent or a legal guardian in an office of someone with authority, this had to be the strangest.

As Emma floundered around the words and Leila glanced awkwardly between the two women, the telltale clicking of her mother's heels made a quick approach from around the corner and then Regina appeared, breathless, next to Emma in the doorway.

"Sorry I'm late," she apologized, absentmindedly resting her hand against the small of Emma's back as she crossed the threshold of the space.  Emma stiffened and paled slightly at the contact as Regina continued marching into the office and took a seat next to Leila in the unoccupied chair.

"That was a quick meeting," Emma commented curiously, moving over to stand beside Regina's seat, leaning with one forearm perched on the back of it.

Ignoring Emma in favor of turning to Leila with concern, Regina placed her hand gently on the girl's knee and squeezed reassuringly. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded, gesturing towards the principal awkwardly. "It's fine, she just needed me to call one of you, and your phone is dead. I called your office a bunch of times, but no one answered, so I called Emma instead."

Mary Margaret was flabbergasted; Emma couldn't think of a more accurate term to describe the way her mouth opened and closed in surprise as she pointed at each of them in turn.

"I asked you to call your..."

Her voice trailed away, looking at Emma with her face screwed up in great confusion. If Mayor Mills was so obviously the girl's mother based on the resemblance and close proximity, why had Emma arrived there for her first?

"My parents," Leila nodded in agreement, jerking her thumb towards the two women beside her. "Them."

"What exactly is the problem here?" Regina demanded. She fixed the woman across the desk with an intense glare, flipping from Mom to Mayor on a dime. She didn't have time for Mary Margaret to catch up, as Emma had obviously never explained their situation since Leila had become a part of her life.

She had decided after all to cancel an extremely important meeting before it even began and rushed over to the school, Emma only beating her there within the space of a few minutes.

"Emma, I still don't understand why —"

"She'll explain it to you later," Regina interrupted impatiently as Emma shifted behind her, digging the back of her knuckles into her shoulder to, presumably, shut her up. She hadn't been given any time to prepare her mother for this situation, and the brunette's rudeness wasn't helping. "I have an extremely important committee meeting very shortly that I _cannot_ be late for."

Mary Margaret seemed to accept that with a stern nod and shuffled through the papers in front of her until she came across the one she needed. "Yes, well, as you know the faculty had meetings this morning to align curriculum and to gauge who would need some extra help for the year based on their test scores."

She paused, waiting for everyone in the room to be on the same page. At Regina's expectant nod, she continued. "One of Leila's teachers noticed that she tested well below her tenth grade English levels and made it a point to direct her files to me because she's a new student. She didn't want her to fall through the cracks."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Leila inquired nervously.

The principal acknowledged the question with a swift nod, but answered by continuing to speak to Regina. "Well, we'd like to hold Leila back a grade level, _at_ _least_ in English, to allow her to catch up to where the other students are. We understand she's been known to have trouble keeping up, according to what the notes in her file say, so I'd like her to hang back a year until she gets her bearings in a new, more advanced school setting such as Arendelle Academy."

"That's absurd!" Regina commented, her voice rising an octave above anything Leila _or_ Emma had ever heard. "She will _not_ be held back just because she wasn't given the tools at her other schools to succeed. There must be another solution."

Leila looked to her mother; her eyes blazing angrily and jaw clenched, and mirrored Regina's previous attempts at soothing her by placing her right hand on Regina's knee and giving it a light squeeze to bring her back into the present.

"It's okay, Mom. She's worried about me too." She chose her words carefully, knowing that because this was the first time she'd called the woman her mother by _name_ , it would convey the level of appreciation she felt for Regina as she fiercely tried to stand up for her.

Regina's stomach dropped and her eyes immediately turned to look into the patiently waiting gaze of her daughter. The word she'd so desperately wanted to hear echoed in her ears, ringing brightly even still moments after she'd said it.

She'd called her mom. For the first time.

Her face immediately softened and a small half-smile crossed her features as she reached down to squeeze Leila's hand. With her heart full, she held the tears at bay, cleared her throat, and took a deep breath.

"I apologize, Ms. Blanchard. Is there anything we can do at home to help her through this year without holding her back? I'm sure with the correct level of supervision we can bring her to where she needs to be."

"It's Swan now," Emma muttered, but otherwise stayed out of the discussion. She knew that perhaps being inside the walls of their old school setting had caused it to slip Regina's mind. Emma's parents hadn't married until she was in college, although they'd been together since they were seniors in high school and became pregnant with Emma. They'd told her repeatedly that "true love was not a contract" and so, when Mary Margaret had been their high school American History teacher, she had still been Ms. Blanchard.

"I _told_ you I'm not smart enough to be here," Leila reminded her mother softly, and Emma winced as she felt a sharp pain in her chest at the unusual level of dejection in the girl's voice.

Sensing the tone of self-directed blame evident in Leila's voice, Mary Margaret interjected before the other two women in the room tried to cheer her up. "Leila, _of course_ you're smart enough to be here. You have one of the highest science and practical reasoning scores this school has ever seen. We can't all be perfect at everything."

At that, she turned to look at Regina significantly, who sunk a little in her chair under the glare of her former teacher. Regina had always been an obnoxious point counter in school, marching up to the front of the room after class to argue about any missed question on a test with frustrated tears in her eyes. It was stress-inducing, harmful behavior, and it was something Mary Margaret hoped she wasn't instilling in her daughter to the degree that she had been all those years ago.

The girl looked at her skeptically, unsure if she was actually telling the truth. She'd never been told she was good at _anything_ before. She was good at science? At reasoning? Weird.

"I guess it's not the worst thing that could happen," she supposed, shrugging ambivalently. So, she'd have to repeat ninth grade English. She could read _Of Mice and Men_ again.

"Absolutely not," Regina firmly insisted, looking upwards and to the side at Emma briefly and taking in her neutral stance. _How does she not have an opinion_?

Emma glanced down out of the corner of her eye and caught Regina's burning gaze; she knew she'd receive the cold shoulder for days if she didn't come to her aid against her mother in this moment, so she sighed and pursed her lips, nodding once at Mary Margaret to attract her attention. "What can we do to get her on target without holding her back?"

Mary Margaret tilted her head at Emma's question, folding her arms gently across each other on her desk. "We?"

"Later," Emma promised, holding out one palm in a calming gesture. She repeated her previous question, just the slightest bit more firmly. If any of them would break Mary Margaret down, it would be her. "What can we do?"

The principal sighed, shuffling her papers around once more and closed the folder of Leila's file primly. She sat up completely straight, taking in the appearance of each of the people in front of her: Emma, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else, and yet still invested in a positive outcome; Regina, intense eyes burning a metaphorical hole in the middle of her own forehead; and Leila, disinterested, her face turned down to her lap and she waited to be instructed, as always, of the changes to her life.

"I can give you an advanced reading list, Leila," she began, addressing the girl directly for the first time since her mother had jumped to her defense. When eyes turned upwards to meet her own, she continued seriously. "But it will take a lot of additional effort on top of your other classes. There are several novels you need to read and comprehend to catch up to your classmates, and you will have to turn a research paper in, _to me_ , on each individual author and novel at the end of each week during this first quarter. We'll test you at the end to see if your scores have improved and go from there."

As Regina somberly nodded in agreement, Leila blanched. One whole book per week, on top of her other homework and tests?

"You don't have to do this, kid," Emma said gently over Regina's head, squeezing the brunette's shoulder softly to convey that she should express the same sentiment. She was grateful that her mother's attention was placed elsewhere; the woman was observant, and she'd have enough difficulty explaining Leila without having to also explain her 'non-relationship' relationship with the mayor.

"You don't," Regina echoed, taking Leila's hand in her own. She thought fleetingly of her own mother, and how differently this meeting would go under _her_ direction. "You may choose whichever option you think is best for you. I will help you as much as I possibly can no matter which way you decide."

She had never liked the suffocating weight that came with the potential to disappoint those with authority over her life, and Leila shuffled away from Regina's supportive presence while she weighed her options. She had never had someone so willing to _believe_ in her without having to first prove herself. It was alarming to allow herself to revel in that. If Regina thought that she could accomplish the task, then she ought to at least _try_ , right?

"I'll catch up," Leila confirmed, and an uneasy weight settled in Emma's chest, though Regina beamed proudly. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

She wasn't sure of anything, but she tentatively trusted, now, that Regina wouldn't steer her in the wrong direction. And even failure, perhaps, would be worth the look in her mother's eyes in this moment.

"Well, I guess we won't need to change your schedule after all," Principal Swan commented, flipping open the cover of the manila folder and adding her signature with a flourish to the bottom of the top page. "I appreciate your willingness to try, but I also don't want to see you get overwhelmed. We'll try this for a few weeks, and if we need to change something then, we will. You may go and join your pre-calculus class now, room 143."

She handed the paper over to the girl, who nodded her appreciation and glanced down at the blocked schedule of classes, reviewing it for what seemed like the hundredth time. English II, Pre-Calculus, Western Civilization, Chemistry, Philosophy, and Music Appreciation. How could she _possibly_ take all those classes?

 _Because Regina thinks you can_. She smiled warmly, glancing between Regina and Emma, and secured the straps of her backpack over her shoulders, ready to finally begin her day. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course, dear," Regina replied simply, releasing Leila's hand as she stood to leave the office.

"Thanks, Principal Swan," she waved, giving each of her mothers a small pat on the shoulder as she left the office in pursuit of her classroom. It was a large building, and without Henry to guide her, it might take her a while to get where she needed to go.

In her wake, the three women hovered in discomfort, Regina crossing her arms over one another at her wrists on her lap as she looked up at Emma questioningly. The subject of their meeting had departed, and thus went their common ground. Emma had obviously not been in much contact with her mother, and that left Regina out of sorts. She had come in on a high tide of defending her little girl, and now that it had ebbed, she had little need to command the situation. This wasn't her office; it was Mary Margaret Swan's, and Regina held no power here.

Which meant that it was time for her to go.

"Regina, your meeting," Emma reminded her casually, offering her the opportunity to escape. She had handled Leila's academic situation as much as she possibly could have, and soon Mary Margaret would undoubtedly begin grilling Emma about her very presence.

"Oh, yes," Regina nodded, plastering on a falsely sweet politician's smile and turning to regard her former teacher. "Thank you for your help, Ms. Blanch — Mrs. Swan." Her smile became suddenly more genuine, and her tone softened. "I appreciate your concern for her well-being. I can assure you she won't be falling behind."

"It's my job. It's _why_ I do my job," she clarified earnestly. Her eyes roved over to Emma, still standing awkwardly by Regina's right side, before moving back to settle on Regina's face. "Don't let her drown under the pressure of an impossible situation, Madam Mayor. We _will_ reassess her grades in a few weeks' time, and if I don't see a steady improvement, changes will be made, and I won't be persuaded otherwise."

She nodded firmly, squaring off against Regina's steely gaze until the mayor blinked away first, gathering her purse from beside her chair as she stood.

"Well, thank you again," she reiterated, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from the front of her dress. She came face to face with Emma, and shared with her a wink and a secret smile.

"And I will still see you at 12:30 with lunch?"

"I'll be the one with the _baba ganoush_ ," Emma confirmed with a bright grin, turning to watch as Regina sauntered from the room, her business completed.

This left her with just Mary Margaret's expectant glare for company, and Emma swung her arms back and forth, looking around the office at anything other than her mother's scrutiny.

"So, I guess I'll just go ahead and..."

The end of her sentence dropped off as she pointed over her shoulder to the still-open door, which clacked softly against the wall after Regina's departure.

"Sit down."

With a dejected huff, she fell into the chair recently vacated by the illustrious brunette, and with a deep sigh, she launched into their tale under her mother's fascinated, rapt attention.

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

"Leila! Where is your paper for Principal Swan?" Regina yelled from the bottom step; she'd started their morning routine an hour early, knowing that her daughter likely forgot to finish her math problems because of the report her principal, Emma's infuriatingly judgemental mother, had assigned her. The girl had struggled ever since, trying to stay on top of everything but also catch up to where the other kids were in English.

Leila had bounced around from public school to public school all over Massachusetts and obviously missed _a lot_ over the course of her education. Regina had been working with her diligently, though. They worked through all her assignments _together_ and she tutored her in things she knew she'd need to be caught up on before it became an issue.  

Regina had even contacted some sympathetic advisors that sat on the Board of Education that gave her the projected student curriculum in gratitude for a hefty donation to the school's library. They were finally making progress and Leila was doing well. She seemed happier, less on edge about going every morning, and she seemed to be fitting in.

"Leila!"

She climbed the steps in irritation, absolutely hating having to repeat herself. She'd woken her up thirty minutes ago and expected her to be getting ready. She had an important engagement and needed Leila off to Emma's earlier than her usual 7:15. As she rounded on the girl's door, she noticed she was still buried under the covers. She walked over to the bed brusquely, yanked the comforter down, and frowned deeply. Leila was tucked in a little ball as she shivered at the shift in temperature. She reached out blindly to grab the blanket from Regina’s tight grip, only to be met with resistance. "I _told_ you today was going to be an early one. And now you've slept too late to shower. Get _up_!"

Leila huffed, grumbling and grimacing at Regina (who, despite her reproachful frown, had difficulty hiding her amusement at the girl's ridiculous bed head,) clearly pissed off at her mother and the _world_ for existing this early. Her school clothes were already on her body, thankfully, and minus dealing with her hair again after she'd fallen back asleep, Regina was pleased she hadn't outright ignored her and gone back to bed. "Thank you for being somewhat put together. I couldn't find your book report, did you finish it at Emma's last night?"

Leila's eyes widened with concern. "Shit! I completely forgot. I still have to write the outline and the bibliography."

Regina rolled her eyes at her daughter’s dramatic flop backwards into the mountain of pillows once more. "Good thing we have an early start anyway, then."

She took the girl by the hand and pulled her up to a seated position, struggling to make her stay. "Let's go, finish up. Your breakfast is on the table, then I'll drop you off at Emma's so you can finish your paper. Do _not_ forget to turn it into your principal."

Leila rubbed at her eyes and dropped her feet to the floor. She took the navy blue sweater vest from where it was draped over her lampshade messily and tugged it over her head, hiding the wrinkled button-down shirt before Regina could notice and insist she iron it out. "Okay, okay, I'll remember this time. God, Regina, how do you _function_ this early?"

Regina smirked at her as she turned to leave the room. "Years of practice."

She walked to her own bedroom to put on her jewelry as Leila beelined it to her bathroom in an effort to tackle her hair _again_.

Within the next twenty minutes, they had both eaten their breakfast, finished dressing, and gathered up their various necessities. They met by the front door, Leila shuffling her backpack on her shoulders and Regina shoving a few last-minute items into her briefcase.

"You talk a lot of shit about being on time for someone who can rarely be out of the door when you say we need to be," Leila pointed out grumpily, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the foyer wall, her head lolling to the side on her neck in a tired haze.

"Watch your language," Regina reprimanded, finally slipping her blazer across her shoulders and tugging open the front door, gesturing for Leila to exit ahead of her.

“Why? You don't,” Leila argued, and Regina bit her tongue to hold back the immediate reply that surfaced. It was true. She was by no means the picture of polite language. However, she defended herself internally, she had spent many years as a solitary adult, with no children around to potentially influence.

“There will be times in your life when you'll have a job, and you won't be able to tell your boss she ‘talks a lot of shit,’ for example,” Regina explained calmly while unlocking the doors to the car, gently placing her briefcase onto the backseat as Leila all but fell into the passenger’s side. “It's good practice.”

“I'm just saying maybe you could _practice_ what you preach,” Leila huffed, and Regina cut a warning glare to the side as she pulled away from the driveway.

“Or, I'm your mother, and I am right. End of discussion.” Regina snapped, and a quiet tension filled the car to the brim. Before long, they were cruising the darkened streets of Storybrooke, and Leila reflected, not for the first time, how different the town appeared to be in the absence of sunlight. Emma's loft wasn't very far, and yet the distance seemed immense with the combined force of the grumpy attitudes of each Mills woman combating the other.

"How long have you been waiting to play that card?” Leila inquired suddenly, startling Regina as she’d just become accustomed to the silence.

“What card?”

“The whole ‘I'm the mom, I'm always right" thing. There was a hardened edge to her voice, but Regina attested it to the early hour and the lack of sleep the night before and let it go, choosing instead to remind her of what the rest of the morning needed to look like to keep her from falling back asleep on Emma's couch.

As Regina pulled up in front of the bar's side staircase to allow Leila up to the loft, she shifted into park and turned her head to face the girl. "Remember to be very quiet when you get inside, everyone else will be asleep. You don't have to be at school for," she checked the clock on her dashboard, "an hour and fifteen minutes. I'm sure Emma will bring you when she takes Henry."

"I could just walk," Leila reminded her easily, her hand wrapping around the door handle, and she pushed it open gently so as not to make a loud noise. "It's like five minutes away."

"Not if you don't have to," Regina insisted. "Emma will take you. Now go finish your paper."

There was no arguing with her when she made up her mind, and Leila knew this definitively. She loathed being told what to do, and she felt resentment bubbling up inside of her against her will to an almost uncontrollable degree. She shrugged and stepped fully out of the vehicle, bumping the door closed with her hip. Through the open window, she leaned down and fixed Regina with a withering stare to accompany her sarcastic tone.

“Bye, _Mom_. I'll try not to tell Principal Swan to kiss my _ass_ when I give her my assignment, while I'm trying not to say _shit_ either.”

She took off up the stairs without so much as another word for her mother, taking no notice of the flash of hurt across her face as she drove away, the weaponized title of her role ringing in her ears in Leila’s scathing voice.

A strong pang of regret coursed through the girl as she escaped to the second story. She was just in a bad mood, and Regina had just been trying to help. She hadn't deserved that much attitude for her efforts. She would have to apologize, she resolved, but first, she had a paper to finish. That particular phone call could wait.

Getting inside Emma's home was never difficult. Regina had lectured the blonde more times than Leila could even count about her lackluster safety measures; she often went to sleep at night before remembering to lock her doors and windows, a habit which Regina coldly referred to as being "like candy for burglars and perverts," and Emma always laughed off the reprimand heartily, making a big show of locking the door and then shooting Leila or Henry a sly wink behind Regina's back. The doorknob turned without hesitation, and Leila grinned at the predictability of her life these days.

She crept quietly to the kitchen counter, noticing the printed pages of her research paper organized neatly exactly where she'd left them before Regina had retrieved her after dinner the previous night.

Robin had begged Regina to accompany him to some stuffy business dinner just outside of Storybrooke, and rather than being alone, Leila had opted to spend the evening making "gourmet" sandwiches with Emma and Henry (they were "gourmet" in that Emma roasted and chopped actual peanuts to sprinkle over a spread of Regina's homemade blackberry preserves, but to Leila, it was still just a regular old p,b, and j.)

While Henry played his allotted half-hour of video games between his dinner and before his bedtime, Emma had sat patiently with Leila on the raised bar stools, research on George Orwell and _Animal Farm_ spread across the bar in front of them in every inch of available space.

They had finally wrapped up her ideas as finely as they could, printing them out on Emma's printer when Regina had arrived, flushed from the bottle of red wine she'd consumed to get through the dinner, and rushing Leila to get downstairs where Robin waited for them in the car. In her haste, she had completely forgotten the paper and passed out the moment she got home and her head hit the pillow.

She deposited her bag onto a chair and made to remove her laptop, intending to complete her outline and bibliography right there in the living room until the Swan family arose to get ready for the day. She didn't want to bother them, she thought; she had taken up Emma's entire evening doing schoolwork, and she didn't want the older blonde to worry about her in the morning too.

She could finish up her work in the early-hours computer lab at school; Emma wasn't expecting her, and would never know the difference. She nodded to herself, her mind made up, and as the first rays of pink sunrise began to nudge at the windows, she exited the loft, enjoying the sight of Storybrooke waking up right along with her.

 

\--------

 

An obnoxious beeping sound jolted Emma out of one of the best dreams she'd had in awhile; all she remembered as her mind and body reconnected with the world around her was that there was definitely ice cream and _definitely_ a scantily-clad Mayor of Storybrooke. Not only was it disappointing that she woke up just as alone and unsatisfied as usual, but she also found it extremely rude of her brain to cause her to crave decadent chocolate dessert before she even made it through breakfast. The beeping continued, and she shoved a pillow over her face with an irritated groan. She reached out to slap the button of her alarm clock aggressively, but to no avail. The sound continued uninterrupted, and she peeked under the corner of her pillow at the clock: 6:58.

 _That's weird._ She shouldn't have awoken any earlier than 7:15. Her alarm had been set for the same time on every school morning since Henry had been old enough to go, and over time her body's internal timepiece had adjusted accordingly.

"Mom," Henry appeared in her doorway, rubbing one eye with the back of his fist. "What's that smell?"

"Emma!" A frantic cry from another room sounded louder than the beeping, and it was all of these factors hitting Emma's body at once like a freight train that truly woke her up and made her realize that there was a serious problem.

"Henry, come on," she urged, throwing her blankets away from her body in a panic, thankful somewhere in the back of her mind that she'd been a little chilly the night before and had gone to bed fully dressed. She shoved her feet into a beat-up pair of sneakers, grabbed her phone, and grabbed tightly to Henry and pulled him close to her on the way out of her bedroom door, just in time to meet Ruby's frantic gaze as the brunette made sure they were following her before she tore down the stairs and in the direction of the bar room.

Emma followed in an oddly calm sort of panic, Henry wrapped around her waist like a monkey, and it was only as they reached the bottom stair that it occurred to her that this was a colossally poor course of action.

The back half of the room was engulfed in flames, snarling angrily across the floor as it filled to the brim with smoke, and Emma surged forward without thinking as Henry buried his face in the back of her shirt as he allowed her to lead him out. She needed to escape; she needed her boy to be _safe_. She still took care, though, to glance at every corner of the room, mourning its impending loss as Ruby laced their fingers together, bursting across the burning floor with determination to get them out.

 _It's not that bad_ , she repeated to herself, _it's not that bad. Henry's fine. Ruby's fine. You're fine._

It was just her home, her livelihood, going down in literal flames.

She held him closer for just a moment longer, cradling the back of his head before he struggled out of her embrace, yet remained clutched to her side as she reached up and gripped the sides of her face, watching in horror as Ruby paced the sidewalk, desperately speaking with the fire department. It wouldn't be long before they arrived, hopefully in enough time to save what Emma had worked so hard to build.

 _But Henry's okay,_ she repeated once more. _And you're okay, and Ruby's okay._

She dropped before Henry to one knee, running her hands over his arms, his torso, his legs, ensuring to herself that he was all in one piece. His eyes grew wide in anticipation of what he could see over her shoulder, and instinct told him to wrap his arms around Emma's neck and tug her head into his tummy as a window burst behind them.

"Mom," he cried, his voice hitching in fear, and Emma grasped his hand tightly, leading him across the street and away from danger. Ruby, noticing their movement, followed closely behind as she continued to make urgent phone calls. It was the sight of this that caused Emma to reach into her pocket, produce her phone with a shaky hand, and place a call to the one person whose voice she needed to hear more than anything in a moment like this one.

"Hello?" Regina answered impatiently, and Emma thought perhaps that she might have caught the brunette already at work. A morning call placed while she was at home might be received with a warm, throaty greeting, the luxury of sleep and blankets and _home_ still pervading Regina's senses before she rose.

Emma liked to be the first person to speak to her in the morning, if she herself ever woke up early enough to do so. And if all it took to beat out Regina's irritating, slothful bed partner was to set her alarm a little earlier, it was worth her trouble.

But now, judging by the tone in her voice, Emma had absolutely interrupted the Mayor at the office. She gulped harshly, a lump rising in her throat as she gripped Henry's hand tightly, his face buried in her side to avoid the sight of his burning home.

"I need you." she confessed loudly; with the way her life was collapsing down around her, it was inherently true.

"What's wrong?" The immediate shift in her tone towards urgent concern made Emma's knees weak.

"The bar's on fire." There was no way she could have said it that would have made the pronouncement any easier out loud, and her heart warmed despite the icy tendrils of fear still clasping onto it tightly at the deep concern and sympathy in Regina's voice when she replied.

"Oh my god, Emma. Is everyone alright? Did everyone make it outside?"

She swallowed back her tears, nodding, and then realized that the woman wouldn't be able to see the physical response. "Yeah, we’re all fine and safe." The faint sound of sirens began far in the distance, and Emma breathed a pained sigh of relief.

"I'm glad you’re okay," Regina soothed, and Emma wanted to reach out across the phone line, hold her close, and never stop. "May I speak to Leila?"

"What?" Emma blurted out, tilting her head in confusion.

"Leila? Let me speak to her." Regina repeated, louder and more slowly to ensure Emma had heard her properly.

"Okay, I know you were a little wine drunk when you got here last night," Emma chuckled weakly; she found that being able to joke made her stomach untwist at least a few knots, "But you definitely brought her home with you."

"Emma, I dropped her off there very early this morning to finish the homework she'd left." Regina explained firmly, her voice jolting up half an octave, and Emma's heart plummeted to her feet at the utter fear she heard from Regina. "She was going to school with you!"

"No, _no_ ," Emma groaned, her heart leaping firmly back up through her body and lodging just below her throat, strangling her speech. "She went home with _you_! I never saw her."

She racked her brain for any sign of the girl in the apartment as they'd made their hasty exit. She simply hadn't _seen_ her, but that didn't mean she wasn't there. And now, there would be no way for her to get out as the flames licked higher and higher towards the loft itself.

"Emma, are you _one hundred percent_ _sure_ that she wasn't in there?" The unbridled panic was evident in Regina's voice, and Emma shook her head, horrifying images of the girl inside the imminent danger flashing across her mind.

"I didn't...I didn't see her. Oh god...she's _in there_?" Emma searched the second-story windows, frantically trying to locate any sign of the girl. If Regina had dropped her off in the morning, it was entirely possible that she was still inside. She couldn't just not _know_ , waiting for the fire department to arrive. By then, it would be too late. She squeezed Henry's shoulder, leaning down and pressing a bruising kiss to the top of his head as she placed the phone in his hand, the call to Regina still very much connected. She dashed across the street, bound and determined to get inside and get the girl to safety.

"Emma, _no_!" Ruby cried, horrified, as the sirens wailed closer and closer and she grabbed Emma's arm to stop her.

"I have to get Leila!" She yelled desperately, breaking away from Ruby's firm hold and crashing through the door as the first fire truck pulled onto the street.

The terrified cry of _Mom, come back!_ , from the other end of the line was the last thing Regina heard before her body lifted from its horrified stupor, propelling her out of her office like a shot in her venturesome attempt to save her fragmented family.

 

\--------

 

Everything was oddly _beautiful_. That was the first thing she noticed, how terrifyingly beautiful it was inside the building. Like fireworks, popping and crackling on a warm summer's night, the wooden beams and tables becoming nothing but idle kindling. Like a fire just at dusk next to Regina while Leila and Henry fought over who toasted the perfect marshmallow.

And then everything sped up, she couldn't see or _breathe_ , and every time she tried it felt like lava in her chest. Suddenly all the windows exploded at once, her eardrums ringing as the thunder of the flames rolled everywhere around her.

The smoke permeated the room, clouding and tearing her eyes as she coughed and spun in circles crying out for Leila with all the power her lungs had left. Trying hopelessly to get her bearings, trying desperately to find the missing girl. As a beam from the ceiling snapped in half, and she stopped for a split second to gape at the movement as it came crashing down on top of her, immediately knocking her to the ground under the weight, a pained, last-ditch effort of a scream billowing out of her lungs in hopes that maybe Leila would hear her and get out.

As her vision fogged over, her lungs and nose burned and muscles ached, _everything_ ached, all she could hear was Regina's beautiful laugh, echoing through her mind; her bright welcoming smile, the corners of her mouth that took up her entire face. And by the time she was able to comprehend her name being yelled, over and over, deep and firm, she blinked a few times as the inferno flared around her and a bright light permeated through the haze.

 

\--------

 

In an absolute panic, Regina ran through the door with barely enough wits about her to grab her phone. She rushed down the hall and the stairs and it felt like an endless loop from which she'd never escape. Heavy, burning tears flowed freely down her cheeks as what she realized was her entire _life_ could be ending within the inferno of Emma's bar. That _fucking_ bar.

Emma. Henry.

 _Leila_.

She dialed and redialed Leila's number, praying that she'd pick up and this was all somehow a big mistake. Henry was safe, she'd made sure, but the two people she cared about most, her _child_ , could be dead. _Oh god_.  

She ran faster, almost tripping over her feet as she dashed to her car, slamming down on the accelerator as she shifted far too quickly for the delicate gears, barreling through the orange, wooden security plank. The wood cracked in half, causing the gate patrol officer to yell and wave as she flew by. She sped through town to try to make it to Emma's before she lost everything.

She could hear the blaring sirens even from just outside her office; that couldn’t be good. Storybrooke was a relatively small town and nearly everything that mattered to her was within walking distance at any given time, but the Rabbit Hole was far enough away that, in order to hear sirens, there must have been _many_ responder vehicles on the scene.

Sure enough, when she pulled up to the building, flames licking through the windows, black smoke tumbling and mixing with the cool morning breeze, Henry and Ruby back on the sidewalk, her heart dropped as a firefighter ran out of the building, a lifeless Emma Swan in his arms.  

Not a second later an explosion echoed so loudly that all she could hear after was her heartbeat, the impact of the blast throwing them both forward as Emma's body propelled from his arms, rolling on the pavement. Regina had never seen everything move so _slowly_ before.

As the paramedics reached the blonde, quickly giving her mouth to mouth, Regina stood frozen. Where was Leila? Immediately she lunged forward, pushing through the police blockade that had been set up, " _No!_ " She screamed, as police officers tried to restrain her. "No, _please_! My daughter! She's _inside_ , Emma, she was in the building trying to find my daughter! Please!"

She began to sob now; she still wasn't allowed through, and she cried and screamed and punched and lunged. She tried everything in her power to break through, but she just _couldn't_.

They loaded Emma onto the stretcher as a team of firefighters rushed to extinguish the flames, an oxygen mask covering her beautiful face, and Regina could just make out her hand reaching for the paramedic to her left. She was alive. Not a second later, she was pulled from her haze at her name being called and her dress being pulled vigorously. "Regina!" Henry yelled, his big hazel eyes looking at her with insurmountable fear. Regina stood frozen, all of her focus immediately shifting to him.

"Sweetie, are you alright?" He nodded, teary eyed and scared, rushing forward to pull her into a tight embrace. She kneeled down to become level with him, grabbing his arms on either side of his body. Why wasn't anyone taking care of him? "Henry, was Leila...did you see her this morning?"

He shook his head with the saddest little pout that made her heart melt. He was terrified. And so was she. "Oh, Henry, it's...it's okay. We'll follow the ambulance and we'll see your mom. She'll be okay, see?" She turned and pointed towards the paramedics working diligently to take care of his mother. He pulled her into a tight hug as she felt his nod as their cheeks met, until he pulled away quickly, each watching the scene with rapt attention. "Everything will be okay. Go get in my car and buckle up, I'll be right behind you."

 

\--------

 

Leila was never one to pay attention to rules, and even the strict curriculum of Arendelle Academy couldn't break her of the bad habits she'd developed in all her years of school. As her music appreciation teacher droned on about Tchaikovsky (or had he moved on to Dvorak?) she allowed her mind to wander aimlessly. It was her first class of the day, a brief reprieve before launching into pre-calculus next, which she considered the prime time to get a little extra rest after Regina's earlier-than-usual morning routine. She had finally gotten her paper completed with barely a few minutes to spare and had promptly turned it into Principal Swan.

Halfway into the next piece of classical music floating merrily around the darkened classroom (watching the videos on the large, digital screen only aided in Leila’s sleepiness,) a crackling sound disturbed the symphony with an announcement from the front office.

“ _Leila Mills, please report to the principal’s office immediately.”_

She barely registered the call until every pair of eyes in the room turned to stare at her, along with a confused frown from her teacher. He raised his brows to her significantly, tilting his head in the direction of the door.

“Miss Mills?”

“Huh?” She blurted out, straightening in her seat. _Damn_ , she thought, _Maybe I really should go to bed when Regina tells me to._ Shaking her head brusquely, she gathered her bag onto one shoulder and smoothly rose from the wooden desk, ducking in front of the screen as she exited the room. She wondered as she strode through the extensive halls and down two flights of stairs towards the front office what she could possibly have done this time. She mentally read through her literature paper once again; she didn’t _think_ she could have let anything inappropriate slip into her writing, but as Emma had been her copy editor this time instead of Regina, she couldn’t be completely sure. It was the sight of Robin furiously pacing back and forth in front of the school secretary's desk, however, that stopped her in her tracks and she realized that for once, this wasn't because of something she'd done.

"Oh, thank god," he groaned, pressing a palm heavily to his forehead in relief at the sight of her crossing the threshold, the door clicking closed softly behind her. "You're _here_."

"Why wouldn't I be here?" She replied, genuinely confused, as his pacing continued, glancing every few moments at the form of paperwork the stern, prim secretary was preparing for him to sign. Leaning closer to sneak a peek over the tall desk, Leila recognized the form as the one Robin would need to remove her from school for the day. _Why the hell is Robin taking me out of school?_

"Where's my mom?" Leila asked instinctively, the title tumbling from her lips more freely than it ever had. Sure, she referred to Regina as her mother constantly to other people, but rarely did she think to use it when describing how she herself saw the woman. Robin halted his pacing, his eyes flickering hesitantly between her face and the nearly completed, intricate release form still within the secretary's grasp.

"Regina is...well, she's been in a complete panic looking for you. There's been an accident. She's at the hospital with Emma and she asked me to find you and bring you to her."

Nothing could have prepared her for the way her heart nearly stopped in her chest as the word _accident_ rolled around her mind tumultuously, her brain churning out images of Regina or Emma suffering various injuries. She choked over a sharp gasp, her hands naturally reaching around her abdomen in a protective, self-soothing grasp. "What happened? Are they okay? What's--"

"All I know," Robin began evenly, finally reaching out to retrieve the proffered clipboard with attached paperwork to sign his name with a flourish,"is that I'm supposed to find you and bring you to the hospital."

Before she could even register what exactly was happening, he wrapped an arm firmly around her shoulder and led her through the door and in the direction of the parking lot where his vehicle waited. Her head was spinning, and she had the distinct feeling that she might vomit. She had never _cared_ so much about anyone in her entire life; it left her wholly unprepared for the way her body violently reacted to the unbridled panic coursing through her. _Regina. Emma. Hospital. Accident_. Four words that repeated themselves in her subconscious like a sickening mantra.

As Robin tore through the streets of Storybrooke in the direction of the hospital, jaw clenched tightly as he ignored several traffic laws, Leila turned towards him, angling her body as sharply as possible behind the restrictive seatbelt.

"What the hell is going on, Robin?"

He punched the brake harshly, slamming his hands down onto the steering wheel, jerking them both forward as he stopped short at a traffic light that had just furiously turned red.

"I've told you everything I know," he explained tersely, tapping his thumb against the steering wheel impatiently. "I got a call from Regina saying that there had been an accident, begging me to find you _right now_."

"How can you not even know if she's okay?" She argued harshly, her voice climbing steadily higher as her words became more desperate. "Christ, dude, she's going to be your _wife_. You didn't think to make sure everything was alright?"

"She asked me to find you and I did!" Robin replied sharply, and for the first time, she saw what she felt may have been a true emotion cross his features. Fear. "Of _course_ I thought of her first. But _her_ first priority is _you_ , and you know it."

He didn’t say it with resentment, she noticed, just simple certainty. She huffed, knowing that he was at least a little right. She hugged her bag closer in her lap, wrapping her arms around it in an embrace that served to make her feel less _alone_.

The hospital was five blocks away on their right, and it was as though time was moving more slowly the closer they got to it. She had no idea what was happening, and yet again, her impending step-father was proving to be of little practical use to her. More horrifying images of either mother in dire circumstances crept into the corners of her mind, and her heart began to race. She couldn't lose them now. Not when she'd finally gotten to the point where they _meant_ something to her, not when she'd finally found her family.

Not now that she might possibly, maybe, be starting to _love_ them.

As he threw the car into park in the nearest parking spot he could find, she tugged the straps of her bag around her shoulders, turning in her seat to give him a cold stare. She had tried to give him a chance, but she found she couldn't let this opportunity pass.

"You know, maybe Henry _is_ right." She began coldly, and as he turned the key in the ignition to cut off the engine, he gave her a confused, hesitant look. She pressed on, "Maybe you _do_ have another life in Paris. A family with a baby on the way."

The color drained from his face rapidly as he gulped, his eyes locked steadily on her own. Neither moved while Leila earnestly searched his gaze. "But _this_ family is mine. Regina, and Emma, and Henry. I don't know if you fit into that with us yet, but if you want to? You'd better do a hell of a lot better than whatever this is."

She knew she was likely just taking out her frustration and fear on him, but she found that she didn’t quite care. She didn't even give him a chance to dignify her accusation with a response before throwing open the passenger's side door harshly, taking off towards the emergency room doors with as much speed as her exhausted body allowed.

 

\--------

 

"Regina!"

The impassioned cry from somewhere nearby stopped her in her tracks as she paced the floor. The moment she saw her daughter, she was filled with multiple, conflicting emotions at once. Gratitude that she was alive; anger at her stupidity; frustration for deviating from their plan and creating this mess in the first place; but she was so relieved that she was _okay_ , it won over everything else. She was turning the corner of the long hallway, Robin breathing heavily as he ran several paces behind her to catch up.

Regina ran to her without abandon, pulling the girl into a crushing hug, not caring how she would react or if it would make her uncomfortable. She was _alive_ , and above all else, Regina needed to celebrate that after being terrified of the alternative.

Leila accepted the sudden, engulfing embrace, her arms wrapping instinctively around her mother’s shaking frame. Regina simply held her more tightly, crying softly in relief as her chin rested on her shoulder and a palm reached up to cradle the back of her head. Leila began to pat gently over the woman’s back, over her shoulders, and back down again, checking for anything amiss. It seemed like she was fairly alright, which had to mean that _she_ hadn’t been the one in an accident. "Regina, what happened? Robin didn't know _anything_...are _you_ okay? Is Emma...?"

"What _happened?_ ” Regina repeated harshly somewhere near her ear, and Leila flinched, actually physically _feeling_ the shift in the brunette’s demeanor as it occurred. She jumped back in alarm at the desperately angry tone and wild look in her mother’s eyes. “Emma ran into a burning building because _I_ told her you were at her house and you weren't! Where the _hell_ were you?"

Leila’s jaw dropped incredulously at the accusatory nature of the argument. "I was at school, where I was supposed to be!"

" _No_ , at 6:30 this morning, you were _supposed_ to be at Emma's, finishing your paper."

She floundered for an answer, glancing briefly to the side to see that Robin had settled somewhere just behind her and to the left, observing the interaction warily. "I didn't want to bother them so I just...I went to school. I'm...I didn't mean for...is Emma okay?"

Regina simply looked at the girl morosely in response, her eyes brimming with even more tears. She didn't know the last time she had felt such an outpouring of emotion; it was entirely possible that it had been during the last time she had been inside this hospital, giving birth, sixteen years before. Her heart clenched at the thought, her eyes softening as she stepped closer to Leila hesitantly, reaching out her hand. The girl accepted and clasped their fingers together, squeezing gently for comfort. She sighed, closing her eyes as she collected the ability to remain calm.

“Somehow, the bar caught on fire this morning. Emma and Henry made it safely outside originally, and then Emma went back inside to look for you. We still haven't heard if the damage is irreparable.”

A shocked silence fell between them as Leila churned this information over in her mind, glancing at Henry from the corner of her eye. She returned her gaze to Regina who, for the first time since Leila had known her, appeared suddenly diminutive and broken. She took stock of each piece of information she’d received and attempted to sort them out mentally. She could see Henry, small, sleeping, but otherwise sound. Her mother stood before her, looking completely lost but still okay. She glanced around the room, never quite focusing on any certain thing. There was no lithe, illustrious brunette to be found. “And Ruby?”

“Making phone calls.” Regina explained concisely, and Leila nodded her acceptance. Still, her previous question had gone unanswered.

“What about Emma?”

Regina held back a fresh wave of tears. She was so out of the loop and she was the goddamn _mayor_ and she needed answers. "I don't know, she's in the ER and they aren't telling _me_ anything because I'm not 'next of kin,’ but I'm sure as hell going to find out. Wait here with Henry. He's asleep now, but he’ll need you."

Leila nodded, looking around her shoulder at the sullen boy curled up in an uncomfortable chair as Regina placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. Please go take care of your brother." She leaned down just slightly and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. "I love you."

This time when she said it, a small smile of understanding passed between them. She waited for Leila to look away first and rush towards Henry, who started to stir when he felt her presence. Regina promptly strode in the opposite direction, reaching out absently as she passed him to touch Robin’s arm briefly, though their eyes didn’t meet. She left the waiting room now that she knew the rest of her family was safe and pushed her way into the ER burn triage where they'd put Emma. She was entirely sure that she did not have clearance to enter without a doctor’s permission, but it was of no concern to her in that moment.

When the double doors closed discreetly behind Regina’s retreating form, Robin moved forward towards the children with their heads close together, murmuring softly. He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his front pockets, and both sets of intense, bright eyes turned to him inquisitively. He ran a hand through his hair at the back, squinting an eye at Leila. “Is there anything I can do for you? Can I---”

“Coffee,” she interrupted definitively with a firm nod. The emotional toll of the last fifteen minutes had drained her of any remaining energy, and it would give Robin something to do that occupied him elsewhere for the time being. _She_ may have been at least moderately comfortable with the man (they did live together, after all) but no matter how much Henry liked Robin, he wasn’t _family_ in the same way. And with so much confusion surrounding him, family was what Henry needed. She placed her palm softly on the boy’s shoulder, squeezing it firmly to get his attention. “And...juice, Henry?”

“Apple juice, please,” he answered with a grim nod, and Robin smiled thinly in response, nodding as he took a step backwards and then turned fully to remark on a search for a vending machine.

Leila leaned forward with a deep sigh, dropping her head as she rested her forearms on the tops of her legs, holding her torso up heavily. She turned her head slightly to the side, noting the way Henry gazed blankly at the ground in front of him. She frowned and reached to the side to wrap her fingers around his cold, clammy hand. He looked so _small_ here, in baggy, woolen plaid pajama pants, an almost-too-small Batman shirt, and messy, uncombed hair. It made her heart ache.

“You know your mom will be okay, right?” She said it with the utmost confidence. How could Emma--bright, enigmatic, Emma-- _not_ be okay? Their entire universe would be thrown off kilter, so, the way Leila saw it was that there was no other option _but_ for her to make a quick, clean recovery from whatever injuries she had sustained. Henry simply turned his head at a tiny angle to look at her, the faintest smile gracing his lips.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Leila,” he stated genuinely, but she noticed that the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and the hand that squeezed hers briefly started to tremble. “I’m happy you weren’t inside when she went in there looking for you. But I don’t know if _she’s_ going to be okay.”

Leila gulped hard at that thought. What if something _did_ happen to Emma? None of them would be able to recover. Regina certainly would never get over it. A panic-inducing thought took hold, then; Henry would go to his dad or his grandparents, and their little tight-knit unit would cease to exist. And Leila? She would lose the closest thing she’d ever had to a family.

 _And it was all her fault._ If she hadn’t deviated from the plan, she would have been where Regina expected her to be. They could have all gotten out of the loft safely. Emma wouldn’t have had any reason to run back into a burning building...

“Leila?” She heard Henry’s soft attempt to get her attention, and realized that he must have been trying to reach her for a few moments as she fell deeper into her own inner turmoil.  He didn’t look at her, his eyes still glued to the floor in front of them, but he placed his hand on her knee, his fingers twisting in the end of her long, plaid uniform skirt.

“Hmm?”

“It’s not your fault.” His little voice cracked on the last word, and she turned her head to him with confusion screwing up her face. How had he known?

“Oh, Henry,” she sighed, leaning back in her chair and pressing her fingertips against her forehead, rubbing up and down in an attempt to make her frustration and guilt ebb. “It definitely is.”

 

\--------

 

Regina saw Emma's body, hooked up to oxygen, wrapped in white gauze, behind the harsh glass of her small room. The contrast of her blonde hair and pale skin startled her and she gasped out loud, pressing her hand firmly to her heart. She stood in shock for a few moments, not sure what she should do next. It took every bit of self-control she possessed not to rush into the room without permission; luckily, Emma's doctor came up next to her, placing his hand gently on her forearm to let her know he had arrived. She jerked her hand away, nostrils flared indignantly at the man and then realized she did in fact need his help. "Is she...?"

“Are you family?” He hesitated, looking her up and down disbelievingly. Emma’s parents had been called, of course, and they were on their way. However, Regina couldn’t stand to wait for an update until the technical “next of kin” arrived. Their children were in the waiting room, desperate for information, and Regina was going to get it for them. For all of them.

“Yes. She’s the mother of my child. It’s...complicated. Please, I just...need to know what’s happening with her.”

His eyes narrowed slightly with skepticism at Regina’s description of their relationship, but had the good sense not to question Regina further. He looked at Emma through the glass with interest and picked up her file from the plastic holder next to the door, reading through all the information they had. "Her heart rate is lower than we'd like and her blood oxygen level is slowly climbing, but still not where it needs to be. The smoke inhalation is what we're most concerned with right now."

Regina nodded, taking in the information as he slowly delivered it, grateful that she knew just enough medical jargon to keep up. "And her burns? She's covered in bandages."

"She has burns on her upper arms, some fairly deep lacerations as well, but it seems they got her out in time. It's not severe, but she's very lucky. She'll be in a lot of pain for the next few weeks and they'll need to be bandaged and cleaned. Her pain medicine will need to be properly administered and monitored as well."

Regina nodded in understanding, ready to bear the burden of Emma's care for however long it took. "I'll handle the arrangements. Is there anything more?"

“She fractured three ribs and we believe she may have hyper-extended her shoulder and sprained it, as we can't quite determine what the swelling is from. Her x-rays were negative, it's not broken. She'll be sore, but she's okay. It could have been _much_ worse. We'll keep her here for a few days to monitor the burns, keep her hydrated, and keep an eye on her airways and then she can go home."

Regina’s body sagged in relief, a hand reaching out to find purchase against the glass to steady her. _She was going to be fine_. "Thank god. May I see her?"

He glanced around to the nearby nurses’ station, noted that the floor was nearly empty, and nodded cautiously. Both of them knew that it wasn’t exactly legal for him to allow Regina through, especially not before her parents arrived. But she was the mayor, after all, and he wasn’t keen to incur her wrath. "She’s stable, so only for a few minutes. Do not move her, and she's medicated so she might not wake up, but don't be alarmed. Sleep is the best thing for her right now."

"Thank you, Doctor."

He took one more glance around the hall and then reached out to give her a firm handshake before nodding once, striding confidently in the opposite direction. They would be seeing each other again soon. Regina took a deep breath, pressed the button, and waited for the door to part in front of her. She wasn't sure she'd ever been so scared or relieved to see another person _twice_ in one day.

She walked over, almost tiptoeing, afraid to make any sudden movements should the blonde wake up. Regina couldn't risk causing her any _more_ pain. Shrugging off her blazer and laying it gently across the bottom frame of the bed, she grasped the back of the small stool and brought it as close to the bed as she could.

Looking up and down Emma's body, her heart beat wildly in her chest. She looked so frail, so _insignificant_ , hooked up to all those tubes and wires, buried under blankets and gauze. Her hair slicked back away from her pale face, lips she loved kissing so much chapped and peeling. It broke Regina's heart to see her like this.

She reached her hand out and gently placed the tips of her fingers over Emma's wrist, desperate to pull her into her arms and _magic_ away every blemish, every ounce of pain. She searched the blonde's face for any sign of discomfort and laid her head down next to her on the bed somewhere near her hip, silent tears falling from her eyes.

"You're such an _idiot_ ," she whispered after a few moments. Ironically, Emma was her safest confidant. And it angered her to no end that Emma had endangered her life as if it meant nothing. That she could have lost them _both_ in that fire. It angered her _more_ to know that it was entirely her own fault that Emma was in this mess. She had gotten herself seriously injured at the mere _suggestion_ that Leila could be in danger. "But I could never thank you enough for trying to save Leila."

She looked up at Emma's soft features; disregarding her marred flesh, she looked almost peaceful. It made her skin crawl. As her emotions caught up to her and her brain began to panic, mentally cataloguing each of the blonde’s bruises and disfigurations, she couldn't hold it in any longer. So, she just decided to tell Emma _everything_.

"Don't you think I'd choose you if I knew how?" Regina shook her head, choking over a fresh sob as she blindly searched for Emma's hand and wrapped her fingers around it cautiously. "I just don't understand how you do things so recklessly, with complete disregard for the things and people around you. How could you be _so_ foolish?"

She cleared her throat, attempting to control her voice as much as she possibly could. If Emma could hear her, then she wanted to be understood. "You ran into a burning building to save our family...to save our daughter, and now you're just...god, Emma, I..."

She dropped her gaze again to the bed. They'd come so far, and yet were still so _stuck_ . But the moment Regina realized Emma might not make it, as her frail body was tossed lifelessly from the fireman's arms, she only wished she'd gotten to say one thing to her. Her heart ached to say it, ached for never _having_ said it. Because she certainly _felt_ it. She felt it every moment, burning brightly within her soul, and she wished it hadn't taken almost losing the two loves of her life at once to give her the courage to finally say it.

"I love you," she murmured softly, clearing her throat quietly as she turned her head and lifted her chin to gaze upon the blonde's stoic, unconscious face. "I love you _so_ much, Emma. Please wake up. _Please_."

She was begging again. It was as if every fiber of Regina's being reached out to Emma in every way it possibly could, and if it couldn't find her, the energy came out in any other way. It unnerved her, the desperation. One she'd never felt for another person for as long as she could remember. Was this what _love_ felt like? A constant desperation? She'd been pining after her, of course, but it wasn't until she actually admitted out loud that she hopelessly loved Emma Swan that all her feelings intensified and burst forth. At that moment, Regina realized _everything_ had to change. Everything.

She immediately stood, pacing a little as she nodded to herself before promptly leaning over to look at the blonde. She gently brushed her lips across Emma's and stormed out of the room, determined and confident with a new resolve like she'd never felt before.

 

\--------

 

The sight of Emma’s doctor in the waiting room gave Regina pause as she snuck back through the halls, her mission burning within the depths of her soul in her haste to find Robin and finally, _finally_ have a real conversation. Her eyes flicked around the scene before her, taking it all in. Robin was seated with his back to her, his face buried in his phone. Leila sat primly in a chair of an adjacent row, one hand grasping tightly to a plastic takeaway coffee cup, the other wrapped firmly around Henry’s shoulders. The boy’s eyes were focused solely on the doctor speaking with his grandparents; Mary Margaret and David Swan must have arrived within the time she had been at Emma’s bedside.

“...will need to be monitored and treated for a few more days, and she’ll be in an immense amount of pain, but we’re hopeful for a complete recovery,” she overheard the end of his explanation as she walked steadily closer, veering to the left out of sight of Emma’s parents and towards the children, bypassing Robin once more. She knelt gingerly in front of the two of them, adjusting her skirt to allow for the movement as she leaned back on her heels. She took each of their hands in one of her own, tilting her head to draw Henry’s attention away from where the doctor still spoke in hushed tones with the Swans. She gave a brief, reassuring glance from the corner of her eye to Leila, and then swiped the pad of her thumb across the back of Henry’s hand, gazing at him imploringly. “Henry, look at me.”

Slowly, he dragged his focus away from the scene and met Regina’s watery-eyed smile, his eyes wide and scared. She leaned her head in a little closer, speaking in a quiet voice meant just for the three of them. “Your mom is going to be fine, I promise." He looked at her and shrugged a little, nodding over to the doctor and the worried looks his grandparents were sharing. "Don't worry about them, I was just with her."

"And she's okay?"

"She will be. She looks a little scary right now because of all the bandages, but they're there to keep her safe and get her the medicine she needs."

Henry cowered a little under the weight of the information. "I'm scared, Regina."

At Regina's small gasp, as Henry's confession tugged at her motherly instinct to make everything better by wrapping him into a tight hug, Leila squeezed both their hands and scooted closer to Henry. "I'm scared too, Henry. And so is my mom. It's okay to be afraid."

Regina looked to Leila and smiled softly; no matter how many times the girl said it, hearing 'mom' always made her heart soar. She nodded to Henry. "She's right, and we'll get to take her home soon and the three of us will give her all the love and care she needs to get better. We just have to get through the next few days, okay?"

He hesitated as his brain churned the information, glancing between his worried grandparents and Regina’s earnest, honest face. He nodded, a small smile breaking through, and turned to look at Leila who wore a similar, relieved expression. “You promise?”

“Absolutely,” Regina confirmed firmly, and almost instantly he propelled forward towards her in an embrace that nearly knocked her over onto the floor; she reacted in just enough time to wrap her arms around him in an awkward hold. The sudden motion drew the attention of Mary Margaret, who began to thank Emma’s doctor profusely before moving closer to the three of them. As she approached, Leila straightened and cleared her throat, prompting Regina to release Henry, who took his seat again while Regina rose and straightened herself out, electing to sit primly in the chair by Leila’s side.

“Henry, your mom is going to be fine, and we can see her very soon,” Mary Margaret took the seat next to him, wrapping him up in a firm, comforting hold that only grandmothers seemed to be able to do. “She’s sleeping and needs some rest, but she’s strong.”

He nodded against her chest in understanding until she relieved him of the hug, and she gently smoothed his hair back from his forehead as she waited for his reaction. “I know, Grandma. Regina just told me.”

That seemed to surprise his grandmother, and she looked up across the row of chairs to meet Regina’s somewhat fierce, defensive gaze. “She did?”

“Yeah,” Henry continued, nodding vehemently as he rubbed at his tired eyes with the back of his hand. “She saw her. She said my mom looks scary but she’s going to start getting better now.” He relayed the information with the utmost confidence in his source, though his usual, mature demeanor was somewhat diminished under the pressure of the situation.

At Mary Margaret’s inquisitive stare, she opened her mouth to begin to describe how she could have seen Emma before they’d arrived, but she was saved from the potentially awkward (and incriminating) explanation by David Swan rounding the corner of the hallway and striding purposefully towards them, having stepped away to place a phone call

“Okay, he’ll be here as soon as he can,” David explained to Mary Margaret, tucking the phone away into his pocket with a nod. “He just left a shoot in Portland, luckily, so it should only take about an hour.”

“Who’s coming?” Henry asked, genuinely confused. Everyone who he knew mattered to his mom was already here, with the exception of Ruby, who had gone with the police to describe the events in as much detail as possible while they attempted to determine the cause of the fire. And Tinkerbell, he supposed, but his grandpa had said “he.”

“Your dad,” David explained, and while Mary Margaret sighed in obvious relief, Leila turned her body ever so slightly to her right to take in the stiffening frame of her mother. Robin looked up for the first time, then. He had done what had been asked of him, completed his duty. He found Leila for Regina, found refreshments for the children, and found other ways to occupy his time so as not to overstep the boundaries of a family that so clearly was not _his_. But Graham was his friend, and the mention of him automatically drew his attention.

“Oh, thank goodness,” Mary Margaret murmured, patting Henry’s knee gently with a sweet smile before straightening in her seat once more. “Graham will know what to do.”

Regina’s blood began to boil at the ridiculous implication that Graham Humbert would have any idea how to handle the dire situation any more than the rest of them, by the sheer fact that he shared a child with Emma. She qualified for the job for the same reason, she argued within her own mind, but logically knew that Emma’s parents wouldn’t see it the same way.

“Because Graham _is_ a doctor, and his opinion is so esteemed,” she bit out angrily, unable to stop the sneer from overtaking her face. Leila groaned, elbowing her mother in the side harshly, and Mary Margaret leaned around Henry and Leila to quirk a brow at Regina’s snide outburst.

“He’s Henry’s father,” she explained deftly, as though Regina should have realized why he was necessary. “Emma will need constant care for weeks. She won’t be able to take care of him alone.”

Regina bit her tongue against her harsh response. She had assumed, naturally, that Emma and Henry would simply come home with her, where she could care for them easily until such a time when Emma had recovered and the loft was liveable once again. But she had forgotten that, outside of the comfort of their little unit, the rest of the world would expect Emma to rely on her son’s father, on her parents, during her recovery. Regina and Emma were good friends, and nothing more, to the untrained eye. But she knew, and Leila knew, and she thought perhaps even _Henry_ knew, judging by the confused look he was giving Mary Margaret.

“But my dad doesn’t live here,” he questioned obviously, as though he was judging his grandmother for not considering this fact. “And if we can’t stay...if we can’t go home…” he drifted off, clearly not having quite realized that they would need somewhere to go. “We’ll just stay with Regina. Right?”

He turned hopefully towards the brunette, who floundered a bit for an answer, ignoring the burning way Robin looked at her as he waited for her answer.

“Oh, Henry, it's not my..."

_Of course you’ll come home with me. It’s where you both belong._

“Henry, Regina is the mayor, she’s far too busy to take on two new people into her home,” Mary Margaret explained kindly, cutting Regina off before she could properly answer. “You and your mom will come home with us, where you belong.”

Sensing her mother's discomfort and the eventual facts Henry would inadvertently divulge, Leila decided to intervene. "Henry, why don't we take a walk. I think there's a garden on the other side of the building. We'll go get some fresh air."

He looked up at the girl skeptically, slowly clueing into the fact that she was looking for an out. “Right...fresh air.”

He jumped up onto his slippered feet, reaching out for Leila’s hand, and with a sweet little nod at his grandparents and then Regina in turn, allowed her to lead him away from the increasingly uncomfortable scene.

“Text me if anything changes,” she threw over her shoulder to her mother, and then took Henry away in search of any form of distraction from the adults who knew so little of what was really going to happen.

 

\--------

 

“Listen, Henry,” Leila began, releasing the hold of his hand and turning to a vending machine on the first floor to give a good, swift kick. When nothing happened, she grumbled, reaching out to shake it gently in an attempt to make some sort of snack wiggle free. “I know _we_ know that we’re a family,” she explained, sticking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she set her eyes on a particularly loose Snickers bar. “But not everyone… _gets_ that, okay?”

“Why don’t you just buy it?” Henry inquired with a confused tilt of his head, pointing lamely at the bag settled upon her shoulders. “Regina always puts snack money in that front pocket for us.” He knew, because he had swiped it from her bag before, when Emma had absentmindedly forgotten to put quarters into his _own_ backpack and he really wanted an extra bag of chips with his lunch at school.

“That’s not the point,” Leila dismissed with a wave, leaning all of her weight with her shoulder against the machine and shoving upwards at a specific angle to dislodge the candy. Finally, she pounded her fist against the top right corner and it fell with a satisfying _thwack_ to the well at the bottom. _She still had it_. She reached triumphantly through the slotted opening to retrieve it. “The point is, when people get hurt like Emma did, it’s usually their parents who want to step in and be the heroes.”

“That’s dumb,” Henry argued, watching as she tore the packaging open with her teeth and slid the candy bar out into her palm, breaking it into two halves to share with him. "I still don't get why they called my dad."

"They thought since Emma wouldn't be able to take care of you, and they'd be busy with Emma, he should be the one to stay with you."

He shrugged, still not understanding why everyone was making a big deal out of something so simple. "I stay with you and Regina when Mom works."

"We know that, and Emma knows that, but your grandparents _don't_. They're trying to do 'the right thing,' even if it isn't."

"But I want to stay with you."

She shrugged, jumping at the vibration in the inside pocket of her bag indicating she had a new message. As she swung it around to her front to check, she reasoned. "Maybe you should tell them that."

Two new notifications lit up her home screen, both from Regina. She had long since deleted Regina’s panicked voicemails and texts; they wracked her with guilt every time she opened her messages. _Don’t go too far_. and then moments later: _Please bring Henry back, ask if he'd like to see Emma_.

“Looks like you can go see your mom now,” she nodded to him, jerking her head to the nearby elevator with raised eyebrows. “Want to go?”

 

\--------

 

The two returned to the waiting room moments later to a relieved looking Mary Margaret and an annoyed looking Regina.  "Oh, thank god! I was beginning to worry you'd gotten lost." She quickly strode up to them, pulling Henry into a fierce side hug that made Leila cringe.

"The hospital isn't _that_ big, Mrs. Swan. I can keep him safe."

She turned to look at her sternly, her left eyebrow raising to make herself look more authoritative. "I appreciate that, Leila. But now that we're all here and his father will be here soon, I'm sure you and Regina can go home. I'll excuse you from school for the day since it's been stressful for us all." Leila dropped Henry's hand and looked to her mom, who was quickly at her side, looking at her expectantly, wanting to be filled in on what the girl just been told.

Leila shrugged and glared at her mom, clearly displeased by the information. "Mrs. Swan says we should leave since Emma and Henry's _family_ are all here now." She turned to look at her principal with disdain. "We're being sent home. Our services are no longer needed."

"Now Leila, I did not say it like that," she looked quickly and apologetically to Regina who was _seething_ at the implication that they weren't important to Emma. "I merely assumed the two of you would want to go home and get some rest, it's been a long morning and there's nothing more either of you can do while Emma rests." She shrugged a little under Regina's harsh glare. "You're welcome to come back later. I'm sure Emma would love to see you when she wakes up."

Mary Margaret was much more aware than she once was regarding their situation, but Emma hadn’t even come close to divulging her true feelings towards Regina. Henry, stuck in the middle of their obvious fighting, finally perked up and turned around to face all (but one of) the women in his life. "I want to go home with Leila and Regina, Grandma. When I'm not with mom, I'm always with them."

Regina and Leila beamed at him, grateful for the wisdom of the young boy and because they both knew that without his request, Mary Margaret would insist on keeping him. "Yes, of course you'll come home with us," Regina replied, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, "And then we'll all come back to see your mother after a proper meal and perhaps a nap. How does that sound?"

He looked up to her affectionately, as she pulled him into a tight side-hug, nodding along with Regina's wink. "Good, then it's settled. Henry will come home with us."

Mary Margaret stood bewildered, not quite sure how things had transpired without her being aware, how plans had been made without her, and nodded to Regina without more protest. "Alright, I'll call you with any new information and when Emma wakes up you'll bring him over right away?"

"Of course I will. You have my contact information. The moment Emma wakes up."

Just as they were about to depart the waiting room, the doctor came through the doors in a rush, startling everyone as they all stood in worry. He looked around frantically, finally settling on Regina's worried gaze. "Mayor Mills, may I have a word with you, please? Follow me."  She placed a hand on Leila's shoulders, meeting her gaze, receiving a nod in return as she grabbed Henry's hand protectively and walked him over to the chairs to wait for her. She walked past the rest of the Swan family, not bothering to look them in the eyes as she walked through the open door.

  



	12. Chapter 12

 

As Regina was ushered farther into the hallway, she stopped, turning around quickly to finally ask the question that had been on the tip of her tongue as soon as he'd rushed through the doors looking for her. "Is Emma alright?"

He nodded emphatically, gesturing with his left hand for her to follow him and talk while they walked. "She's awake and a bit out of it. She's been asking about a Henry and Leila and is _insistent_ she speak to you right now."

She inhaled sharply, her heart sinking a little at what she was sure was Emma panicking with the lack of information and the doctor downplaying the situation so as not to alarm anyone. "Yes, our children, as I explained earlier. Leila is the reason she ran back into the building, and I'm sure she doesn't know if we found her or not."

"I won't even attempt to understand your complicated situation, but I need you to speak with her and calm her down, _nothing_ we say is working and she needs to refrain from this stress and motion. She needs to remain stable, preferably without drug intervention."

Regina inhaled deeply, releasing the breath slowly to calm her nerves. "Absolutely, I'll take care of her, thank you for coming to get me."

 

\--------

 

Regina rounded the corner in front of the nurses’ station; the doctor had allowed her to go the rest of the way on her own, dismissing her when a sudden page buzzed over the intercom for him. She assured him she knew where she was going and that the nurses could help her if she needed them, thanking him once again.

As she arrived in front of Emma's room, two nurses bustled out of her door, and she could see the blonde clearly, her bed having been raised just slightly, but still reclined enough to keep her from too much casual movement. The second their eyes met, Emma's opened wide with worry as Regina stepped into the room, the doors closing smoothly behind her.

She quickly pulled her oxygen mask from her face, desperate for information. "Regina, oh God, I couldn't find her, was she? Is she…" her eyes quickly began to gloss over. Where tears would have usually fallen, all they could do was glisten and burn, her dehydrated body protesting at any form of extra work.

Regina rushed over to her side, shaking her head with an insistent no, immediately leaning down to softly press her lips to Emma's, holding them and trying to calm her with the gesture. Pulling away as Emma gently returned her kiss and her heart rate settled slightly, Regina smiled at her warmly. "Leila and Henry are both safe. They're okay. You're going to be okay, we're _all_ going to be okay."

Emma closed her eyes and exhaled slowly in relief, wincing at the pain that shot down her side. She opened them as she pushed the sensation down deep as she always had, looking to Regina who looked as though she was going to have a heart attack because the blonde was in pain. "Just some broken ribs, I'll survive."

"And a sprained shoulder, and some nasty burns. What were you thinking?"

"That I couldn't let you lose Leila again." She paused a moment, catching her breath, still holding Regina's worried gaze. "That _I_ couldn't lose her either."

They both remained still and quiet for a few moments, Regina giving Emma time to settle down and quit fidgeting, trying to get her arm free from the sling and bandages wrapped tightly around her torso; and once she finally stopped, they simply _stared_ at one another, grateful for the quiet, and grateful for the time alone.

"I heard what you said, you know, when you were in here earlier."

"And what was that?"

"When you told me you loved me."

"Oh."

"Why didn't you have the courage to tell me when I could say it back? Why did I have to be asleep?"

"Because I didn't tell you to hear it back, Emma. I said it because I couldn't go another second without you knowing. And maybe on some level, I knew you'd hear me."

"Did you mean it?"

"Of course I..." She floundered, not sure how to convey just how much she felt for her. "I mean it with all my heart."

"But Regina..."

"I _love_ you, Emma. Isn't that enough for now? You almost died running into a burning building. Just let me love you without worrying about the next step, okay?"

Regina exhaled a deep breath, finally breaking the intense eye contact they shared before turning to grab the doctor's stool that she'd sat on earlier and rolled it close to Emma's bed, sitting down gently, smoothing her dress as she straightened and composed herself. She continued looking down at her hands, unsure of what to say next, if she _should_ say something next.

"You do everything so regally, Regina,” Emma observed in a playful, yet tired voice, “You're so proper and stiff. Relax, it's just you and me here."

Regina's eyes shot immediately to Emma's goofy grin, giving her a dirty look and scooting just slightly farther from the bed. "I almost lost you." She said, matter of factly. "Both of you." Her brow furrowed, lips pressed firmly together, her tongue darting out just slightly as she looked anywhere but at Emma, trying to keep her tears at bay. "And I cannot begin to process that _and_ take care of both our children, _and_ deal with your parents. _And_ your ex-boyfriend, _and_ Robin. My composure is all I have left."

"Wait...my ex...Graham's here?"

"Your _mother_ called and said you needed him. That infuriating woman seems to think she knows what's best for Henry, and apparently you too. And that it's your _beloved_ Graham who has all the answers and will fix everything."

Emma groaned, her eyes rolling until settling back to Regina, who was clearly hurt and visibly trying to hide it. "I want Henry with you until I get out of here. You _know_ that's where I would always want him to be." She smiled at Regina's tiny gasp. _How could she not have known?_ "And I'll deal with my mother later."

"Emma, you really don't need to cause trouble, we're all pretty on edge, it's okay."

"She called my ex! She's always wanted us together and this is her way of trying to manipulate me into needing them both. It's ridiculous and it..." She tried sitting up and fell back onto the bed in pain, coughing as she tried to catch her breath from over exerting her voice. Regina immediately stood, reaching to Emma's side to grab the oxygen mask and placed it back over the blonde's mouth and nose, encouraging her to settle and take deep breaths.

Once convinced that Emma was doing as she had been instructed, Regina sat back down, reaching for any part of skin she could touch without causing her pain. She softly rubbed the inside of Emma's palm with her thumb, and looked at her with those beautiful eyes and that soft smile that always melted Emma's heart. She shook her head softly, hoping that Emma would get the hint and just shut up. "It's okay. Take a deep breath and relax. _You_ are what's most important right now. Let me handle everything else. I need you better and home _with me_."

Emma looked at her, turning her head just slightly in confusion. _At home with her? What did that mean?_ "Don't you dare take that mask off to ask more questions." Regina laughed, grinning at Emma's mock offense behind visible puffs of air. She smiled warmly, finally feeling lighter because her love was _okay_ and giving her attitude _just as it should be_ , she couldn't help but say exactly how she felt. "I love you, you idiot."

At Regina's stern glare when she tried to lift the mask to respond, Emma gave up, simply nodding in understanding as she reached for Regina's hand fully and squeezed in response. It was certainly progress.

After a few long moments of Regina watching Emma breathe and Emma becoming more frustrated by the minute of having to keep the damn mask over her mouth, she reached up and took it off herself, looking Regina dead in the eyes as she stood to put it back on. "Stop lecturing and kiss me, Regina."

And so, with a shake of her head and a big smile, she did.

 

\--------

 

Looking around at her surroundings, pretending that she wasn't solely focused on the way Regina's mouth moved, or the way her eyebrows lifted when she questioned her, or the way her tongue darted out _just so_ before she closed her lips, she remarked quickly, clearing her throat a little. "For a hospital room, it kinda feels _homey_ , you know?"

It had probably been too long, Regina realized, since she had left the waiting room without returning to give an update on Emma’s condition. But she found it immeasurably difficult to give up the only semblance of _togetherness_ she had felt with the woman in so long.

"You're just saying that because we get to be alone without any interruptions." Regina chuckled, smirking a little as Emma attempted to shrug but ended up wincing instead. "Really, dear, when will you learn that your 'general area of expression'," she gestured to Emma's upper body, "is broken because you're far too valiant for your own good?"

"Hey, I do what I can."

Regina felt the gentle buzz from her pocket, and quickly reached for her phone, certain it was Leila wondering what was taking so long. She looked to Emma who was eyeing her curiously. "I want to see them."

"Emma, are you sure…"

"She needs to know it's not her fault, and he needs to see that I'm not walking out of a horror flick."

Laughing gently and nodding in agreement, Regina typed a quick response to Leila, informing her that she'd be right out. "He'll have nightmares conjuring far worse, you're right."

She leaned over to kiss Emma on the lips once more. "Are you sure you're up for it?"

"Yes, don't worry. And I'm sorry for whatever my mom is about to put you through because I asked for you and not her."

"It's quite alright, love. I can handle Mary Margaret. Relax, okay?"

She smiled brightly at the blonde as she turned to walk from the room. "Hey, Regina?"

Grasping the frame of the door with her left hand and turning her head slightly, she quirked an eyebrow in response.

"I love you."

Regina nodded, smiling softly at her before she continued on. "I love you, too."

And as Emma inhaled to the best of her ability, remembering how Regina had lectured her to do it slowly, she leaned back into the pillow and closed her eyes, saving her strength, her heart skittering across the monitor as thoughts of Regina came front and center and she relaxed, finally, a sense of peace overcoming her at how things were beginning to fall into place.

 

\--------

 

Regina walked down the corridors, mentally preparing herself for the onslaught of questions and dirty looks she was about to receive. She knew the rest of Emma's family (and probably hers too) were going to be none too happy that she'd been the only one to see her, especially at Emma's request, so she hardened her resolve and her face and pushed through the doors to the waiting room. The response was immediate, and precisely as overwhelming as she had anticipated.

"How is she? Regina? When can we..."

Regina placed her hands in the air, halting Mary Margaret's questions as she quickly walked over to her daughter and Henry. Kneeling down to get to their level, she grasped their hands and nodded to them, smiling softly. "Henry, your mom wants to see you." She looked to Leila as well. "Both of you."

His grasp on her hand increased as his eyes met hers with worry. "It's okay. She's fine. She's feeling much better and wants you to come visit her."

"What does she look like?" Henry asked, his voice wavering a little as he tried to mask his nervous energy.

"She has a sling holding her arm that's wrapped tightly to her body, here," She traced the outline from her shoulder to the center of her chest to show him. "And she has bandages along her arms here, where she was burned." She traced her forearms and half her bicep with her fingers, showing him exactly what to expect. "Her face looks sunburned, like she's been at the beach for too long, and her lips are a little chapped, like she needs some chapstick on them, but she looks normal otherwise."

"So she isn't bloody or in pieces?" The imagination of a ten year old never ceased to amaze her. Regina shook her head imploringly. "No, sweetie, just bandages. And Leila will be with you the entire time. If you're too nervous or uncomfortable, your mom says it's absolutely okay for you to leave with your sister, okay?"

"And she won't be mad? I just...don't like to see her in pain."

Her eyes widened in surprise, indicating to him that that couldn’t possibly be the case. "Of course she won't be. She told me specifically that she just wanted to tell you she loved you and to make sure you're safe."

"And then we can go home? The three of us?"

"Yes, Henry. We can go, and you can play video games with Leila."

"No, I don't want to play."

Regina looked at him skeptically, quirking an eyebrow as he smiled softly. "What is it you'd like instead?"

He took a deep breath and shrugged a little, offhandedly. "Will you read to me? From my storybook?" He looked down at his hands, then quickly looked to Mary Margaret who was eyeing him curiously. "And make me hot chocolate? You're the best at it."

She smiled adoringly at him; her heart warmed at Henry wanting to be taken care of by _her_ when his world had just come crashing down hours before. She reached her fingers just under his chin, stroking underneath it slightly to comfort him. "Absolutely."

 

\--------

 

"You're really good with him, Regina. I didn't realize you'd become so close with my daughter and grandson."

She cleared her throat shortly, turning away ever so briefly from the cup of coffee she was pouring to acknowledge Mary Margaret’s observation. "Yes, well, Leila coming into our lives has certainly shaken things up for all of us. In a good way."

"I must admit, I was shocked to learn of Emma's involvement. And how she'd allowed herself _and Henry_ to become so tangled up in this mess."

"I wouldn't go so far as to call it a _mess_." Regina countered with growing disdain.

"Oh?” Mary Margaret scoffed, a rueful chuckle punctuating the tense air between them. “She ran into a burning building this morning. Seems quite messy to me."

Just as Regina's eyes flashed and her snarl registered, Graham burst through the nearest set of doors, wide eyed and worried as he rushed to them, startling Regina and _almost_ making her forget about Mary Margaret's rude line of questioning. "I'm sorry it took me so long, is Henry alright? Emma?"

Mary Margaret visibly relaxed, sighing as she welcomed him into a warm embrace. "Emma's pretty banged up, Henry is visiting with her now. I haven't been asked back, but I'm sure Regina could tell you everything you'd like to know about her."

Regina scoffed, subtle as a car horn. "She's fine. She _will_ be fine." She sighed too, seeing a familiar face that wasn't looking at her with annoyance helped. "It's nice to see you again, Graham." And she meant it.

He nodded and smiled gently to her. They'd always had a nice _working_ relationship, as he'd never been anything but kind to her. He had always acknowledged her comfortably as Robin's girlfriend and until he'd gotten Emma pregnant and she could barely look at him, they'd actually been friends. "I wish it were under better circumstances, but yes, for me as well. How's Emma? I still don't understand why she ran back into the bar after she'd already made it safely outside with Henry."

All eyes immediately moved to Regina, waiting for an answer. "Yes, I think we'd all like to know that." Mary Margaret questioned, shaking her head.

Without skipping a beat, Regina gave her a firm answer, one she couldn't argue with. "Perhaps when Emma asks to see you, you should ask her."

Graham shrugged and walked over to Robin who had just come back from his latest attempt to find a restroom, arms out and patting each other on the back harshly as they embraced. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head indignantly at their "bromance" as Leila had described it, and walked to sit down in the chairs and wait for Henry and Leila to return, hoping that they were hanging in there and hoping this would all be over soon enough.

By this point, all she could do was rest her head in her hands and attempt to soothe the building headache at her temples, but she couldn't help but listen to the hushed conversation taking place between Robin and Graham just to her left.

“...but like I said, I just don't understand why she ran back in there, man.”

“She thought Leila was inside.” The answer was so concise, so definitive, that it made Regina snap to attention in their direction, where she found Graham giving her a sympathetic look that made her feel somehow safe and disconcerted all at once.

He looked between Regina and Robin quickly, waiting for confirmation. "She wasn't, was she? She's alright?"

Robin looked at him quizzically, but he nodded as Graham turned, sharing with Regina a thin, grim smile. "I'm glad she's safe. _Now_ I get it."

“You do?” Mary Margaret interrupted from the chair directly across from Regina, who was giving her best effort in pretending not to know Emma’s mother was even present.

“Henry and I talk on the phone pretty regularly,” he explained, “and for months, he has spoken of nothing other than his very best friend Leila.”

With a firm, reassuring clap to Robin’s shoulder, Graham moved in closer to take the seat directly next to Regina. Before she could react, he gently took her left hand and held it tightly between both of his own. “And also of his mom’s _friend_ Regina.”

His eyes held hers intently, knowingly, for a moment longer, and Regina knew for certain that he _knew_. He squeezed her hand softly, and she felt reassured in a way she hadn't known she needed. Graham had always been this way though, she reasoned. Of all of Robin’s idiotic friends, he had always been her favorite. She even understood why Emma had been drawn to him in the first place, short-lived as their affair may have been.

“Thank you.” She didn't elaborate, and he didn't need it. The others in the room around them were obviously lost, but the acceptance radiating off of Graham in waves surrounded her and kept her afloat.

“For what?” Robin inquired softly, understandingly. But even without an answer from Graham or herself, the moment her eyes roved over to meet his, Regina knew that Robin knew, too.

 

 

\--------

 

“You know, all things considered, I could think of worse ways to completely overhaul the inside of the bar.”

Leila cut Emma a sharp glare while Henry quietly catalogued each of her injuries, checking over them sweetly. Emma laughed; a rattled wheeze, more like. Leila cringed at the sound, shaking her head morosely.

“Don’t _do_ that. Don't joke about it like that.”

Emma’s brow furrowed in concern. Leila was uncomfortable in a way she’d never seen her before, eyes darting around the room from various machines and equipment and then back to Emma herself. She held out her hand, her palm turned up, to offer it for Leila to hold. “Why? What's wrong?”

“It's all my fault,” she whispered, though she did allow her palm to rest against Emma’s in a gesture quite unusual to their typical interactions. “You could've _died_ , and I wasn't even in there, Emma. What if it had been worse? What about Henry? What if--”

“Don't,” Emma interrupted, a slight warning in her tone with a nod to the boy’s inquisitive observation of the conversation. She and Regina had gone to great lengths to keep him comfortable; it wouldn't do to scare him unnecessarily. “It's over now. I'm fine. Or, I _will_ be fine. You're safe, Henry’s safe, your mom is safe. That's all that matters.”

“I love you,” Leila blurted out suddenly, to her own surprise as well as Emma’s. However, she knew it was an unequivocal truth the moment it left her lips. And while it was a sentiment that she knew perhaps she should have shared with Regina first, she found she couldn't let another moment pass without telling Emma how she felt about her.

Leila had always imagined that if she found her parents, she could never love one more than the other. Never had she imagined that she’d end up with _two_ mothers, filling her with more love for both of them than she knew what to do with. And while they all knew that Emma was on her birth certificate by mistake, she was in her life and in her heart by choice.

And Leila loved her.

The bright grin encapsulating Emma’s face was infectious, and had both Henry and Leila grinning along with her. “I love you too, kid.” She squeezed Leila’s hand in her own, extending her non-injured arm as far as she could to beckon Henry into her side. “ _And_ you. How did I get so lucky?”

“Magic?” The soft quip from the doorway made all three heads turn, and Regina reflected the bright smiles of her family as she leaned gently against the glass.

“Yeah, right,” Emma moaned, the gravelly voice and accompanying cough enough to turn Regina’s grin to a pointed, suggestive glare towards the abandoned oxygen mask. She sighed as Leila saw what her mother was suggesting and gently covered Emma’s nose and mouth with the mask. She puffed a little air and mumbled under it, not caring if they could understand her if they were going to tag team and make her wear the damn thing. At Regina’s entrance, Henry perked up, listening intently to the interaction as if he were taking mental notes on their conversation. “If magic was a real thing, I'd be moved to a regular room by now.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Regina warned playfully, glancing over her shoulder towards a gaggle of nurses who she knew were on their way to begin the transitioning process for Emma.

At this realization, the blonde narrowed her eyes into a suspicious, flirtatious squint. “Are…are you a... _witch_?”

“In your dreams.” She grinned, walking farther into the room, smacking Emma on the foot at the goofy, far off look she had on her face as she no doubt pictured her in some sort of skimpy black something or another and a pointy hat. "Focus, dear. Little ears and eyes are in the room."

At that, both Henry and Leila looked at each other in confusion. When it dawned on Leila what they were talking about she scrunched her face in disgust and groaned. "Ugh. Get a room."

“I'm trying!” Emma protested as Leila gave her the biggest eye roll in the history of eye rolls. "You're lucky I was a teenager once, and am injured and willing to look past all that sass."

"Ah, what year was that again? 1928? Was sass even invented back then?" Leila retorted, giving Emma's hand a soft squeeze as she uprooted from the stool and made her way to the foot of her bed.

Regina laughed softly, raising a questioning eyebrow at her daughter and strode over to Henry and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "We've all had a long day. How about we go home, get something to eat, take a nap, and come back when your mom is settled in her new room."

Henry looked up to her, smiling softly. "We can come back though, right?"

"Sure thing, kid. It took them forever to get me in here, it'll probably take just as long to get me out. Maybe you could bring me some pjs when you come? These gowns are no fun at all."

Henry chuckled slightly, stepping closer to his mother, shrugging out of Regina's embrace and leaned in right by her ear. "I don't have to go home with Grandma and Grandpa, right?"

“You don't have to, but you do have to _tell_ them you don't want to.”

“Oh, he did,” Leila drawled, an amused tone affecting her voice as she crossed the room to stand next to Regina who had returned to her place in the doorway to give Henry space as he moved in closer to Emma's side, hoping her distance would get them moving out of there before said grandparents found their way into the middle of the little family reunion and ruined it with questions neither of them needed to be answering at a time like this.

“Really?” Emma was surprised, and turned to Regina for confirmation.

Regina nodded, a guilty smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. “We _all_ sort of...exchanged words with your mother today.”

“Goddamnit,” Emma sighed, her head lolling to the side as she rolled her eyes.

“She loves you,” Regina soothed, though she couldn't help but laugh at Emma’s dramatic response. For someone so banged up, she was impressed by the blonde’s easygoing attitude. “And to be fair, you waited a _very_ long time to give her even the slightest bit of information about," she gestured a circle around the room with her finger, pointing out each person of their newly minted little unit, looking at Emma's guilty expression and smiling. "You know, everything. She’s really out of the loop.”

At Emma’s reluctant, exaggerated agreeing nod, Regina cringed ever so slightly with her next reminder. “Not to mention the fact that you still haven't asked for her since you've been here.”

“Oh, crap,” Emma groaned, realizing that that was in fact extremely true. “Okay. You go ahead, and send her in. Or, I guess have her meet me in my new room? I'll...explain things. Gently.”

"And vaguely I hope." Regina quipped, side stepping out of the way as the nurses had begun congregating behind her, which meant that it was really time for her family to go. She collected a child under each arm, stepping out into the hall to allow the team to do their work. “We’ll see you soon, dear.”

 

\--------

 

"So, how much could I pay you not to leave this room when my mother arrives?" Emma quipped with one of the nurses who saw to her room transfer. The cute, curly haired brunette giggled in that _way_ cute girls always seemed to do as she adjusted the nasal cannula to which Emma had finally been upgraded. "I promise to make it worth your while. I mix a pretty mean drink and I'd happily name one after you once my bar is rebuilt…"

"Oh, Emma, sweetie. I just can't believe you're this banged up over nothing. What were you thinking?"  And with that, the nurse gave Emma an apologetic grimace as she quickly exited, the middle-aged Mary Margaret Swan nodding courteously to her as she passed, not wanting to stay for what would potentially become a very awkward scolding.

"Hello, Mom. I'm fine, _thanks_."

"You _know_ I've been kept updated on your condition, Emma. You are going to be fine. But more importantly, why on Earth would you run into a burning building?"

"Because I thought Leila was inside.” She shook her head incredulously. “Would you have rathered me let her burn to death?"

"Of course not!” She rushed forward, aghast at the mere suggestion. She took a seat in the chair nearest to the hospital bed, closer but with still some space between them. “But that's what firemen are for! They have protection and equipment to handle those situations, you did not."

"Mom, she's important to me. I'd have gone back in for Henry without a second thought."

"That's different! He's your _son_."

"And she's…” Emma paused, her mouth forming around the words _my daughter_ before choosing to edit them for the sake of her mother’s sanity. She couldn't express too much too soon. “She's my kid too. Whether you agree with that or not, I'm on her birth certificate and she's in my heart and I don't love her any differently than I do Henry."

"Well.” Her mother startled, taken aback by the impassioned declaration. “I knew you were involved when you told me about it in my office, but I had no idea things were so serious. And Regina? How does she feel about your involvement? She doesn't seem the type to share a long lost daughter with someone whom she couldn't stand six months ago."

"She's changed so much, almost instantly.” Emma smiled involuntarily, her mind conjuring up the imagine of Regina, maternal and loving. “She's _warm_ , and the way her heart opens up when Leila is around is just… _beautiful_."

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were in love with her."

Emma gulped. "We haven't really," she looked off into the distance, contemplating what her next move should be. She loved Regina with all her heart. She was certain of that. But _in_ love? It was so specific. So final. She wasn't sure she was ready for that kind of admission. Especially not to her mother, not before she even told Regina. "I love her very much. And she's a very big part of Henry’s and my little family now. It's...complicated."

"Why is it complicated?” Mary Margaret questioned, a genuinely confused tone coloring her question. “You love her. It seems like the two of you are raising your children together. What's in the way?"

Emma scoffed, cringing immediately at the way the slightest reaction made her body ache. She continued, "Robin Loxley. And her mother. And his father. And some ridiculous contract they drew up arranging their marriage as some sort of business merger."

"Oh, that's hideous.” Mary Margaret gasped, appalled. “That someone could do that to their own child. I remember her from when you were just girls. Cora, I mean. She was frightening then, but arranging a marriage? I can't imagine what that woman has put her through, the poor dear."

"Cora really messed with her head, that's for sure. I _think_ she wants to be with me, I just don't know if she thinks there is a way she _can_ be with me without Cora ruining everyone's lives."

Mary Margaret nodded, accepting this new information agreeably before changing the course of the conversation. "What about Leila? How does her mother feel about the girl?"

"Cora? She doesn't know. She's _never_ known.” At her mother’s flabbergasted expression, Emma's brows shot upwards in agreement. She knew that, as a mother, she couldn't imagine going through any of that without her own mother to rely on. “Regina gave her up the second she was born while Cora was working in Europe and as far as I know, nobody else was ever told. She went through all of that alone. And if I'd known…"

"You would have been there for her.” She finished for her, and Emma sighed in response, a quick nod accompanying the sound. “But she wouldn't have put you in danger like that. For everything Regina is lacking, she loves more fiercely than anyone I've ever met."

"I was awful to her when we were kids. And even worse to her in college. I just wish I hadn't been so blind to how incredible she is."

"But sweetie, everything happens for a reason.” Mary Margaret implored, rising from her perch on the uncomfortable chair to stand next to the bed and take Emma’s bandaged but otherwise uninjured hand within her own. “If you'd been there for her then, you both may not have been capable of sustaining a relationship. You certainly wouldn't have had Henry. It's what you make of the right now, not regretting the past."

"But you understand now? Why I sent him with her?"

"No.” She shook her head firmly in response; it was the one issue on which she would not budge. “I still believe he should be with you and with us until you two figure out your situation. Until she figures out hers. She has to choose, and Henry does not need to be caught up in the messy web of a break-up, or worse, no break-up at all. You _know_ he'd become attached to Robin if he spends too much time over there."

"Robin is never there. He practically lives in Paris. He's in no danger of becoming attached." Emma chuckled to herself at the thought.

"Emma, I love you. And I'd never stand in the way of your happiness. With whomever that may be.” She smiled genuinely and squeezed Emma’s hand tightly. “But she needs to decide, and so do you. And soon. Before things get messier than they already are."

"We'll figure everything out as soon as I'm better." It was easy to say so with confidence, Emma knew, because her recovery was still an abstract concept with no set timeline.

"That's probably for the best, especially because I'm probably Regina's least favorite person at the moment. It'll give us time to grow a better relationship ourselves. Seems if she can figure herself out, we'll need to have a good one."

Emma laughed, “I heard that you were quite the pill to everyone today, but I'm sure she's adult enough to get over it."

“Yes, well,” Mary Margaret scoffed, indignantly crossing her arms over her chest, her nose turned up haughtily, a hint of mirth still playing behind her eyes. “I was the _last_ person to see you and see that you were safe for myself. It does things to a mother.”

"Alright, that's fair.” Emma conceded, to her mother’s pleasure. “But still, the last thing anyone needs to see is World War Three between you and Regina. Reel it in."

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes with a smirk. "I'll _try_."

"Thank you. Now, while we're on a roll, about Graham.” She paused, waiting to make sure she had her complete attention. “We're never gonna happen. We never happened in the first place. It'll be better for everyone if you extinguish that flame you've been silently burning all these years."

"But you'd make…" She began to protest, the plea Emma had heard a thousand times dying on her lips as the blonde pressed on.

"No, Mom. We wouldn't. We've decided to be adults about it and know we'd never work out. Me and Regina on the other hand…"

"What? You think she could be your happily ever after?" It was nice, at least, that the fluidity of her gender preference had never been the subject of much discussion with at least her mother, if not her father. Emma knew that Mary Margaret’s disdain for her affair with Regina was based solely on the fact that they were sneaking around, and also a little who the brunette was as a person. But it was absolutely not _because_ she was a woman.

"Yes, actually, I do. Now if you can abstain from making that face ever again, especially in front of her, maybe things could work out."

"It won't be easy, Emma. She's...very much a…" She floundered for the appropriate word, and Emma supplied it with a quirked brow.

"Woman?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean, she's a real _woman_ , she'll be hard work. She's not just the playing house type. Are you sure you can handle what a relationship would be like with her?"

"I...want to try.” Emma defended earnestly. “She's held onto feelings for me for fifteen years. The least I can do is give us a chance we should have had all those years ago. You'll be supportive?"

"Always."

"Good."

"Alright, I think it's time you got some rest. Your father and I will run home and clean and polish your old room and get things ready for you. We’ll come back around supper time, okay?"

  


\--------

 

“I’m not sure my room is the best place to build a fort, Henry.”

The boy ceased his current task of unfolding several quilts and blankets to give Leila a confused, inquisitive look. “Why not?”

She shrugged, gathering the previous night’s tee shirt and heart speckled shorts that Emma bought her as a joke, and retreated into her bathroom to change out of her stuffy school uniform. “We just usually set up camp in the family room, you know? There's more room down there.”

He paused, settling down in the middle of the bed as he contemplated that argument. “Where am I going to stay?”

After a few moments of silence, Leila opened the door once more and observed the small frame of a lost-looking Henry Swan, adrift in a sea of blankets in the middle of her bed. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, not quite looking at her as his brows furrowed with deep thought. “My house is pretty messed up. The bottom part, anyway. But I'm going to have to stay here with you and Regina until they can fix it.”

It was clear that this was the first time he had realized several concerning things, and Leila swept forward to plop down next to him, an arm wrapped around his shoulder as he continued to speak. “All my stuff is there. My school stuff. My clothes. My games.” A horrified look crossed his little face at what was, to him, the most devastating realization. “My book!”

“Your book is here, remember?” Leila reassured him, and she smiled softly at the feeling of his body sagging in relief at that reminder. “You put it in my bag last night so I could get all caught up on our moms’ story.’”

She had been humoring him, for the most part, by pretending to buy into Operation Cobra. He had reprimanded her heartily the previous evening for her lack of commitment, instructing her to read the new pages as soon as she completed her homework. Now, she was grateful for his bossiness. If he had to live without some things, it was good that he at least got to keep his book.

“Oh yeah!” Henry cried out joyously, and Leila grinned. It wouldn't hurt to have him with her for one night, she reasoned. The kid shouldn't be alone after what he’d been through that morning. They could move him to the guest room later.

“Alright,”  she conceded, “Let's get this fort built before Regina shows up with food.”

And sure enough, it was just as they were draping the last blanket across the room from the writing table to the edge of her bed, the empty space on the floor within an indescribable mess of pillow and blankets, that Regina appeared in the doorway, a heavily laden tray in her arms.

“Lunch?” She called, and two little heads popped out of the “door” of the fort, earning a wide smile from the brunette. Leila noticed the heaviness under her eyes, and the way she seemed to struggle under the weight of the tray. She looked exhausted.

“Let me help you,” she suggested, crawling out from under their fortress to assist her mother as she moved forward to set everything onto the floor.

“I'm fine, dear,” she assured, and before long the three of them were settled deep inside the misshapen cavern of fabric, heartily consuming grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup in a close huddle. Leila was perhaps enjoying herself most of all, a fact that was directly related to their newfound lunch location.

“So, I'm pretty excited we changed the rule about eating in the bedrooms,” she mused, allowing a satisfied sigh to escape as her spoon scraped against the bottom of her empty, tomato-stained soup mug.

“We’ve done no such thing,” Regina corrected around the last bite of her sandwich, politely dusting the crumbs from her lips and giving Henry a sly look at his curious gazing between Leila and herself. “But there are exceptions to every rule.”

“Sure, sure,” Leila agreed half-heartedly, noting that Henry too was consuming the last of his lunch, and began to gather their empty dishes onto the serving tray. Despite the reason for their mid-morning gathering on an odd weekday, Leila found herself oddly at peace with her mother and her makeshift brother so close. It was comforting, even with the huge Emma-shaped emptiness in their midst.

“Now," Henry piped in, ready to get to the part that involved him. "That story you promised you'd read to me. I picked it out. Are you ready?"

He snuggled deeper within the nest he had fashioned for himself next to Regina’s side, and her heart soared from the nearness of his warm little body. She knew it was fleeting, and she shouldn't allow herself to _feel_ so much about this opportunity to care for him. Inevitably, Henry’s father would be there soon to see him. But at least for now, with her own child lying horizontally across from them, and Emma’s son tucked into her side, both expectantly waiting for her to read to them, she could indulge in a little, whimsical fantasy of _family_.

“I'm ready,” she confirmed, and Henry tugged the large fairytale book from its location inside Leila’s bag and under the bed. He gently placed it across her folded legs, flipping through page after page to find what he was looking for.

“Oh, Henry, no,” Leila realized just what he was up to moments before approaching the title page of that particular story, and her protest earned a quizzical glance from her mother.

“The Tale of the White Knight and the Lost Princess,” he beamed proudly as she read it while shooting Leila a look that clearly indicated he wished for her to stay quiet. She shrugged, ambivalent, and gave a wave of her hand to tell Regina to continue.

“Once upon a time,” Regina began, her voice effecting a soft, ethereal tone to the story unlike any Henry had heard before. “In the highest tower of the farthest realm, the Lost Princess had decided to run as far from her fate as she possibly could. The Princess, a lonely girl…”

As Regina delved deeper into the story, Leila simply let her head rest on a fluffy throw pillow and observed her. She looked smaller, somehow; without the imposing high heels, power suits, and regal posture. Here, tucked inside their secret place and wrapped up in a worn, thick sweater, she was just...a mom. The kind Leila had always imagined she would want. The grilled-cheese-on-rainy-days, homemade-hot-chocolate, lazy-movie-day kind of mom. Henry snuggled closer into her side sleepily, and Leila smiled. They looked like they _belonged_ together; and maybe, Leila thought, they truly did.

She watched the way Regina’s face changed when the Lost Princess stumbled upon the White Knight, her voice hitching ever so slightly when they kissed for the first time, gliding out of a tree together towards the ground as if by magic. The soundly asleep Henry made no notice, but Leila did. It was the wistful way her mother began telling the tale, as if recounting a long lost memory, that gave her pause. And as the lilting patterns of sound began to soothe her to sleep, she had the fleeting thought for the very first time that perhaps Henry wasn't so crazy after all.

 

\--------

  


It could not possibly have been a very long nap, as the days had shortened with the changing season and it was still daylight when the doorbell rang. Regina awoke, startled and unaware of her surroundings. However, the large, looming multi-colored quilt stretched above her head and the gentle snores of the slumbering children attached to her sides brought it all back quickly.

Henry had dozed off not long after she had begun reading, Leila following shortly after him, and while both had been fairly contained at first, they had ultimately become a tangle of odd limbs strewn across her lap. She smiled, running a palm gently over each of their foreheads ( _a little warm, but at least they weren't too cold in the biting October air.)_ The bell rang again, and her brow furrowed in annoyance as she carefully extracted herself from the huddle. She wasn't sure who could have been at the door, but she wasn't particularly fond of their persistence.

After traveling quickly down each flight of stairs, Regina gently turned the doorknob and swung it open to reveal Graham, hands shoved deep into his pockets while he waited, quite clearly uncomfortable.

“Hey, Regina,” he smiled, and the polite, sweet accent to his voice melted away nearly all of her frustration with his interruption. She had always hated that about him. “I just wanted to come over and check on Henry.”

“Of course,” Regina nodded, a hand pressed to her forehead as the sight of him caused all of her worry to flood back to her immediately. She stepped back, gesturing for him to enter her home and follow her to the kitchen. “How is Emma? I haven't heard anything since this morning…”

Not that she expected much from him, truthfully. She had been the only one privy to Emma’s condition for hours, a fact that she was sure Mary Margaret intended to use against her now that she had left the hospital.

“Doing as well as could be expected,” Graham replied, and she sighed in relief as she led him towards the kitchen. As though on autopilot, she filled the kettle and set it to boil on the stove, the promise of a hot cup of tea minutes away. “But I've been with her all afternoon while her parents get things ready to take her home, and she seems to be in relatively good spirits. Ruby is already working on getting the insurance company involved, so…”

The end of his sentence trailed off as he sensed her growing discomfort. Several moments of tense, awkward silence encapsulated them as the water took what seemed like forever to boil.

"I'd forgotten how lovely your home was, Regina. I apologize that I haven't been around in such a long time. But Robin usually comes to me, so I've given Emma and Henry their space here."

“Yes, I'm well aware of his traveling habits.” Regina didn't intend for it to come out so sharply, but there was still, and would likely always be, a part of her that resented him for ever having so much as _touched_ Emma. “I know that Emma wants Henry to be here. With me.”

He smiled agreeably and graciously accepted the steaming mug of tea she offered to him as soon as it was ready. “Yes, we’ve just finished having a long talk, Emma and me. About what's best for Henry.”

She tensed, crossing her arms over her chest, and raised her brows in question. “And what is that?”

“Regina, of course we want him to stay here,” Graham implored, and she once again sagged in relief, the tension leaving her muscles at the verification of what she had been hoping for so desperately. “I know his grandparents disagree, but we all know how much Henry loves Leila," he paused, smiling at her. "And you. This is his stability. He’ll need his routine to stay as normal as possible.”

She offered a thin-lipped smile and a nod of agreement, taking a long sip of her own warm beverage as she processed the information he had offered. Before she could provide an answer, though, he continued. “Emma’s going to expect to see him as often as humanly possible though, you know. But I assume it won't be too much of an inconvenience for _you_ to see her that often either, will it?”

He gave her a knowing look, to which she felt herself blush and glance away. He had obviously given some indication that he was aware of their feelings when they'd met in the hospital waiting room earlier in the morning. She wondered briefly what Emma had told him since then, but ultimately decided that she didn't want to know.

“Are you driving back to Boston tonight?” She inquired curiously, and he shrugged casually as he leaned back against the kitchen counter.

“No, I was actually going to take Henry back to the hospital to see Emma and then out for pizza,” he explained, and she nodded her understanding. If Henry had to be away from one parent, it would be enormously beneficial to give him at least some quality time with the other. And as much as she wanted to return and see for herself that the blonde was properly cared for, she knew that her place was at home, waiting to hear from Emma herself.

“He’ll love that,” Regina smiled. It was easier, she found, to discuss co-parenting someone else’s child than it was to make decisions about Leila with Robin. The thought immediately turned her mouth down into a frown, causing Graham’s brow to furrow with worry.

“What's wrong?” He inquired, and Regina quickly fixed her face, attaching an easygoing smile to replace the frown almost instantly.

“Nothing,” she assured him, waving off the moment, though she couldn't quite meet his gaze. “Are you planning to keep Henry with you tonight?”

“I'm supposed to bring him by his grandparents’ house for a bit, but that's as far as I know,” he replied. “I'll let you know what our plans are. Is your number still the same?”

“You can get it from Robin,” she assured him. “I'm sure he’ll meet up with you at some point tonight.”

“Sounds great,” Graham smiled, and Regina felt at ease that at least she knew that Henry’s dad was a good one. “So I guess I'll just…”

“The first door upstairs on the left,” she explained, and as she watched him retreat from the kitchen in search of his son, her heart ached at the thought of having to let Henry go, if only for one evening.

 

\--------

 

Regina tucked herself into the warmth of her covers and snuggled down into her pillows, a soft reading light all that kept the room aglow. Her glasses were perched on her nose, hair tied back in a twist, book draped over her lap as she smiled sheepishly at a rather _intimate_ text from Emma. She was pleased the blonde could keep up with her usual antics, and took great pleasure in the usual, sensual banter between the two of them. Especially because it meant Emma was going to be okay. Stuck at the hospital and then with her mother until she was healed, but okay.

She wished Emma sweet dreams, (" _Hopefully of you all in black_ ," Emma had responded, typically,) and placed her phone on the side table. Picking up her discarded book, she continued to read deep into the chapter she left off on when a small knock tapped against her door. After such a long day she had assumed Leila would be fast asleep, but perhaps without Henry to snuggle up next to, she was feeling a little lonely. She hadn't heard from Robin about Henry so she was left to uncertainty whether his father would drop him off at Mary Margaret's, but she still planned to wait to sleep until she knew. Perhaps she wasn't as bad at mothering as she thought.  "Come in, love."

"How'd you know it was me?"

She turned slightly, looking to her side table clock and peered at the time. "This is usually when we have our late night chats after hard days." Regina smirked at her. "And, we're the only ones in the house, silly."

Just the thought that Regina seemed to look forward to their mother-daughter chats warmed her and she shrugged. "Have you heard anything about Henry?" She inquired, tip-toeing across the hardwood floor as her mother pulled back the covers, patted next to her, and encouraged the girl to climb into bed with her. She no longer moved with hesitation when the prospect of being in close physical proximity to her mother loomed, which, she felt, was an improvement. She finally felt safe.

Tucking the covers around the girl's body as she flopped her way onto and into her large bed, Regina smirked at how alike she imagined Leila and Emma to be. And it was wonderful, she felt, to watch her behave like such a _kid_ again. "I haven't. But he'll probably end up at his grandparents house if I had to guess, unfortunately."

"Oh." Her face dropped a little and Regina looked at her sadly, noticing the almost heartbroken tone to her voice. "He's just had a hard day, and with Emma gone I thought it'd be better if he were with people that made him happy."

“Honey, they're his _grandparents_ ,” Regina smiled reassuringly. “Henry has known them a lot longer than he’s known us. He’ll be completely safe and happy there, if that's where he ends up.” She sighed, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind the girl’s ear. “But I understand, you miss him. And the fact that big fort in your room is lonely without a little, snoring body to accompany you wouldn’t have anything to do with it either, right?"

Leila grabbed a pillow from behind her head and hit Regina in the legs with it. "Shut up. He's _very_ snuggly and warm. Can't h elp it."

"I remember." She said with a soft smile, remembering back to their little trio nap from earlier in the day.

"Hey, I uh…" Leila cleared her voice as it broke just a little as she trailed off in thought. "I wanted to say I was sorry."

"What on Earth for?"

"You know, this morning. When I was kind of a bit…" She trailed off again, not wanting to prove her mother’s point from earlier by completing her original thought. "When I was rude to you because you corrected me. Sometimes I forget that I'm not in the group home where I was expected to have a certain… _edge_."

"We expected a transitionary period, dear. I understand."

"But still. I shouldn't have lashed out."

Regina sighed. "I just want to give you your best shot. There's a difference between _home_ language, and the outside world's expectations of politeness."

"Yeah, I get it. I'll try harder."

"Honestly I'd completely forgotten we even had a tiff this morning. Why did you think you needed to apologize for it?"

Leila swallowed hard, holding back tears she hadn't known would come. "Your fiancé is a moron." She closed her eyes and shook her head at Regina's pointed, expectant glare, not meaning for that to come out the way it did. "I just mean that when he came to school he didn't know _anything_ . All he'd tell me was that you were at the hospital with Emma after an accident. He wouldn't tell me if you were _okay_ or hurt or…"

Regina's stomach dropped and she instantly reached out to grasp the girl's hand. She had no idea Robin hadn't told her why she was being taken from school, and her heart broke at the thought of the panic Leila must have felt from not knowing. "I'm so sorry. I should have given him explicit instructions of what to tell you."

"I thought you and Emma might have died. And I've...I've never been more scared of anything. I thought I'd lost you again and we'd had a fight no less and with me being a jerk to you all the time and I couldn't let those be the last words I said to you...I'm so sorry."

Regina opened her arms for the girl as she lunged at her and buried her face into her chest, the silent tears wetting the brunette's shirt and shaking body the only indication the girl was even crying. She must have been holding this all in, trying to be brave and strong, for quite some time. She ran her fingers through Leila's hair, trying to soothe her with hushed mumbles of "It's alright." and "We're all safe." and "Shh, I'm right here." She hoped that maybe her soft-spoken words would bring comfort in ways she'd never been able to give her when she was a child.

Leila scooted back into sitting, shifting her butt back down into the mattress as she wiped her eyes of stray tears, sniffling softly as she tried to gain her composure once again. Regina extended a hand to her, tucking a few wayward curls behind her ear and cupped her cheek affectionately. "Neither Emma nor I would _ever_ leave you of our own free will. We will always be here for you, okay? You'll never lose us."

"Do you promise?"

"If I promise nothing else in my lifetime, I promise you I'll never leave you. Okay? Even if we fight every single day. Even if," she looked to the blankets in front of her, tracing the pattern of the quilt with her fingernail, "Even if you decide you don't want me to be your mother someday, I'll always be your friend and just a phone call away."

Leila looked at her with confusion. "Is that what you think I want? For you not to be my mom?"

Regina sighed, shrugging a little under the weight of the question and its potential response. "I'm never sure, dear. And I always worry I'll push you too far and be _too much_ and you'll want to run away. When you first got here you made it quite clear I was _not_ your mother. I've always operated under the assumption you still felt the same."

"We've probably needed to talk about this, huh?"

Regina nodded softly, a forced, tight lipped smile fell from her face as Leila began to speak once again.

"You're not who I expected you'd be, Regina. And I guess when I first got here I was very angry with you. And there's a tiny part of me that might always feel that way, but once I got to spend time with you and got to know you, I realized you're kind of...well… _exactly_ what I want my mom to be like. We just started from zero, so it'll take time to get used to each other."

Tearing up and beaming at her daughter, Regina reached for her once more, grabbing hold of one of Leila's hands and squeezing hard. It finally felt as though she could stop walking on eggshells and begin to build a _real_ relationship with her daughter. "We just need time, you're right."

An easy silence settled between them, Leila evened her breathing and got more comfortable and they both waited for the other to speak. "Have you read any of the letters I gave you for your birthday? It's okay if you haven't. They just explain a lot of things about me that might help you."

Leila looked at her quizzically, not sure what she was talking about. "What letters?"

"The ones I gave you in the car that you dropped into your backpack? With the picture frame?"

She looked to Regina with guilt in her eyes. "I just put all that in my nightstand when I unpacked and forgot they were in there, I'm sorry!"

"No, no it's quite alright. I told you you didn't have to open what I gave you. They're just letters that I’ve written to you throughout your life. It’s not important."

"No, that is _so_ important. I'll read them as soon as I can, I promise. Why did you bring them up?"

"Well, when you were younger I'd write to you, mostly on your birthday, sometimes in times when I felt particularly sad about you not being with me."

Leila turned and looked at her quizzically. "You did?"

Regina nodded. "I was going to say...you're _exactly_ who I dreamed of when I thought of you as I was writing. _More_ amazing, even." Regina laughed as Leila shifted uncomfortably. "Enough of the mushy stuff, right?" She winked at her, nudging her a little. "We'll get through all of this together, okay?"

"Yes, okay. I trust you." She wasn't sure what those letters contained, but she was certainly intrigued. The thought that her mother had written to her all throughout her life, that she'd thought about her and _missed_ her made her stomach hurt a little. She was determined from this day forward to make more of an effort with Regina. To feel closer to her and learn to... _love_ her. Leila had honestly never thought about it before. That she could _love_ Regina. But as she thought back to the panic she felt upon learning the woman could be injured or even gone forever, Leila knew without a doubt, she _did_ love her mother. And it felt...right.

The girl's yawning, exhausted body and her droopy eyes signaled to Regina that her daughter was close to falling asleep, and if they were the only ones in the house, it was just as well she not have to get up to go back into her room. The cool night air and the cold floorboards would not be conducive to falling asleep quickly, and knowing how skittish Leila was, Regina merely picked up her book, slid down somewhat and snuggled a little farther into her blankets as she began to read the words on the page in front of her once more, allowing the blonde to decide for herself where she wanted to be. Within minutes she heard the soft snoring next to her, arms thrown wildly above her head, feet inching closer and closer to Regina's in her sleep for warmth and she decided _this_ was what she'd been dreaming of her entire life.

 

\--------

 

An hour passed, curls and limbs were strewn about next to (and on) her in the bed, and Regina's eyes finally began to tire as she closed her finished book and checked the clock next to her bed. It flashed an angry 1:47am and a small fire in her belly ignited at the lack of contact from Robin _or_ Graham about Henry. It was much too late for someone so young to be out, and it was unacceptable she'd been kept out of the loop as to his whereabouts.

Truthfully, as she thought back to Emma lying in the hospital bed, bandaged, broken, and ruefully drugged, she became even more angry. She'd felt _so_ much in the moments spent with her unconscious body, so many wonderful and terrifying things, she realized just how caught up in this whole mess she'd become. Loving Emma so desperately, but being tied to Robin so hopelessly...it was all just too much. Not to mention there were two children in the mix, and the mess all this was creating was unfair to them. And this, oddly enough, was just what she needed to be pushed over the edge. How _dare_ they not tell her where her...and the moment she realized she truly considered Henry her son, that moment was what finalized her plans. She and Robin needed to break up. And it was happening tonight.

She'd put off the conversation for far too long, and it angered her that she hadn't had the courage to talk to Robin about their current situation. She checked her phone one more time, the message of ' _Where are you? Where is Henry? I need you to come home,_ **_now_** _._ ' sat delivered, but unread and her blood quickly began to boil.  

Realistically, this wasn't uncommon in their relationship. Especially when Robin's frat brothers were in town, but after everything she'd been through, she thought he'd want to be home. Taking care of her. The hypocrisy wasn't lost on her, of course. For months she'd only wished he'd go away, but him not even bothering to come home when there were children involved, was the final straw.

She loved Emma. And Emma finally reciprocated those feelings. Revealing the truth to herself made her feel warm for the first time in as long as she could remember. But she also knew it was time. Time to put the present in the past and start building a future. With Leila. With Henry.  And now, without a shadow of a doubt, with Emma.

Adjusting her shoulders, she swiped to call him, ready to get it over with. As the first two rings sung in her ear she heard the front door open and heavy feet make their way upstairs. She hung up, positioning herself back against the headboard, tucked gently under the covers and waited for her fiancé to find her.  She was going to tell him everything. And finally, unequivocally, end their relationship. It was now or never.

He turned the knob, slowly inching the door open to reveal himself. He didn't look intoxicated, which was a plus, but he did look guilty. He startled at the sight of her, his eyes bugging out of his head at the sight of her daughter lying next to her, no doubt assuming he was in trouble. "Oh, I thought you'd be asleep by now. Did I wake you?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, her voice dripping with disdain at his disheveled look. "Out with the boys I presume?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, sort of. Graham didn't have a place to stay so I set him up at the inn for tonight. We watched the rest of a game with Henry and when he fell asleep hours ago, we got to talking. I must have lost track of time. I'm sorry, darling. But he _did_ send Henry home with me, he’s fallen asleep again in Leila’s room."

He walked the rest of the way into the room, shuffling out of his shoes and walked into his closet to change. Moments later he emerged in his favorite lounge wear, the look pinging her heart with a sense of comfort and familiarity that she realized she'd undoubtedly miss about him. He shrugged at her eyes as they followed him, shooting her a half smile as he prepared for bed.  

She roused Leila gently, thinking back to the time on their way to Storybrooke when she'd turned into a monster upon being woken suddenly, softly calling her name and shuffling and untucking her various limbs, hoping she'd turn and wake herself up. With success, Leila sat up, bleary-eyed, stretching her lanky limbs as though she'd just woken from a year long nap. "What time is it?"

Regina chuckled. "Nearly two in the morning. Robin just brought Henry home and he's sound asleep in your room if you'd like to join him. Probably best if he sees a familiar face when he wakes up in the morning."

"You're right, I'll go. Thanks for the nap at least."

"You're welcome, dear. Sweet dreams."

Leila nodded to her, pointing at the bathroom with a soft grimace and an awkward, almost apologetic shrug.

Regina nodded back with a soft roll to her eyes. "I'll see you in the morning. And I'll make pancakes…"

Leila slid out of the bed, hissing at the cold floor as her bare feet came into contact with the wood. She made the side of the bed she'd occupied slightly, smiling at Regina as she patted it and winked on her way to the door. Turning the knob and exiting the room she stopped and turned just slightly, waiting to catch her mother's eyes that had roamed again to the bathroom where Robin was undoubtedly preparing to take her unoccupied space. "Hey, Mom?"

Regina perked up with a bright smile, raising her eyebrows in expectation of what the girl had to say. Imaging it to be something along the lines of, "Can we have milkshakes too?" but to her surprise, it was nothing of the sort. "Yes?"

"I love you."

And with those three simple words, Leila was gone, leaving nothing but footsteps and a closed door in her wake.

Regina immediately grabbed for her chest, tears welling up in her eyes once more. It was the first time she'd ever heard it, and those three words coming from her daughter were the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard in her life. Leila had finally found the family she'd always wanted. With Regina. And Emma and Henry, and now it was Regina's turn to fight for that family. To choose that family. And with a new sense of resolution and determination, she set off towards the bathroom to finally have that conversation.

She came closer to him, leaning against the door frame, and took a few moments to watch him as he combed his hair and brushed his teeth. While there wouldn't be a lot she'd miss about being with him, their nightly routine would certainly be one of those things. At his peculiar side glance, she gathered all the courage she had in her and spoke.

"I think we need to talk."

  



	13. Chapter 13

 

He immediately perked up, the dreaded sentence worrying him as he rinsed and dried off his mouth. "Okay, is this a conversation I'm going to enjoy, or…?" He let the sentence hang as she quickly turned and made her way back to stand beside the bed, not waiting for him to make another remark or start the conversation before she was ready.

"What's going on, Regina? You've been acting strangely all day."

She inhaled sharply, looking off into the distance, and just let everything she'd decided to say to him fall out of her mouth without abandon. "I don't think we've been honest with each other for quite some time."

"What do you...?"

"Our current situation.” She continued simply, bringing her eyes to meet his with a confidence she didn't quite feel. “It's not one that either of us chose for ourselves, and if I'm being honest, we've been playing house, pretending everything is wonderful for far too long."

He looked at her with such confusion laced with a hint of panic that her heart broke a little at the boyish desperation she knew he was about to exude. "Today has been stressful, and you shouldn't make rash decisions when you're under duress."

She shook her head at him, eyebrows furrowing at his attempts at deflection. "No, Robin. It has nothing to do with today, I haven't been... _happy_ in quite some time and I…"

He immediately cut her off, unwilling to allow her continued confession, crossing the space of the room in several quick strides to stand before her, taking her hand within his own earnestly. "You're unhappy. Okay, we can fix that together, Regina, we just need…"

She placed her other hand gently over his, stopping him. She smiled warmly, holding his gaze, hoping that he'd understand what was happening. "Robin, I can’t marry you. I think we've both always known that."

"But I love you, Regina." His response was so immediate, with a practiced definition. She knew that while he absolutely meant what he said, their love was a habit. A knee-jerk reaction.  

"And I love you.” And she did. She loved him deeply, but not in the way they had pretended to love for the last several years. The corners of her eyes burned as they began to fill with frustrated tears. “But we aren't meant to be together. We were never meant to be more than the best of friends. I've always had…"

"Emma."

She jerked slightly, taken aback at the unwavering conviction in his tone. And it wasn't judgemental or accusatory, but more a simple statement. _He must have always known._ While she'd intended to be guarded and firm, calm but collected, she hadn't thought of what to say if he knew enough to confirm what had always been between them. She decided to be completely open for the first time in much longer than she'd care to admit. At this point, the more civil they were, the better, and he deserved the utmost honesty from her. And so she gave it.

"Yes. It has always been her for me. Even though I tried to change how I felt, tried to change what I desired, tried to pretend," she sighed. She hadn't meant to ramble, but it was all coming out wrong. "I let myself become too comfortable with lying...to both of us. Because it was easier. But I can’t keep lying to you. To myself. I love her, in ways that I've never understood.”

"I was always so jealous.” He chuckled, his eyes roving upwards as his lips formed a thin line, self-deprecating as her confessions rolled over him. “ _Hateful_ even. I felt that if I were just a better man to you, a better husband, that we could be happy. But ever since Leila arrived, things have been...different."

"Yes, I suppose they have.” She immediately wanted to interject that their issues had nothing to do with Leila’s existence, but decided to refrain. “She changed me, almost immediately. I've finally gotten to be the mother I'd always dreamed of being."

He winced involuntarily and she smiled at him sympathetically. She knew parenting and children had always been a sore subject for him, and an argument between them. He'd always pushed to have a baby sooner rather than later and she'd always been resolute in never having one. "I'd always thought it was me, you know. That I was the reason you never wanted children. That the thought of raising them with me disgusted you so.”

“Oh, Robin…” She wanted to assure him that no part of that was true, but found that she couldn't quite conjure the words. Because in some ways, it was. It wasn't him, necessarily. But the idea of raising a child, _their_ child, in _their_ situation,  _did_ bother her. He held up a hand gently to halt her interruption, giving her a knowing, pained smile before he continued.

“And then I became more involved with your family and _understood_ , or at least I thought I did. But now, knowing what I know, I just feel so guilty for pressuring you."

"Oh, no.” She sighed, “What happened to me all those years ago is buried in that past. And you cannot feel guilty for what I withheld from you. If we lived in another world, I would have had a family with you." She bit her lip and looked down at her hands twisting in her lap. "And...maybe it's because I had Leila so young, but..."

She paused, carefully selecting her next words. It was something she’d never said aloud, even just to herself. Rather than finishing her sentence, she began an entirely different one.“I have never, in my life, used a form of birth control.”

Just as she expected he would, Robin startled enough that he promptly sat on the edge of the bed, absorbing this new information. “You've never…”

She shook her head, gently taking a seat next to him, both facing forward without looking at one another. “Other than the...preventative measures we used in college? No. No pills, no patches, no shots.”

She turned to face him then, newfound tears springing once more to her eyes as she placed a gentle, soothing palm to his chest, her body turned in towards him. “I never knew for sure, but I'm fairly certain now that Leila was my first and only baby. If we never...if it hasn't happened by now…”

"I always wanted to become a father.” There was a distinct conflict in his tone, Regina noted, and a part of her felt immeasurably guilty, despite the way she had spent years avoiding that eventuality. “And I wanted you to be by my side as our child's mother.” He smiled sadly, reaching up to once more cradle her hand within his own, allowing them to rest gently in his lap. “But when Leila arrived, very much _not_ my daughter, I think I struggled to connect with both of you. And so I left and stayed away because I thought it was best for all of us. And then I received a phone call…"

"About the baby."

His eyes grew in size and he cowered a bit under the knowledge that he'd been sneaking around and she'd already known his secret. "You knew? But how…?"

"Henry, oddly enough.” Regina drew her legs up onto the bed and folded them beneath her, settling comfortably against her pillows. She shrugged, offering Robin a grim smile that turned up just one side of her face. “Thinking I was pregnant with your child when we picked him up from Graham this summer. Apparently, little ears heard a best friends’ conversation about you becoming a father and he deduced I was the mother when I was introduced to him as your fiancée."

"Regina, I'm so sorry. I never meant for…" He turned fully to face her then, still seated very near to her on her side of the bed.

"I understand, Robin. I really do.” She stopped the apology she knew was forthcoming. In this scenario, it meant little. “You sought comfort far from home when there wasn't much offered here. I don't fault you for that. Will you...move there? For the child?"

"I don't exactly live...anywhere. And the mother and I, Marian is her name, we aren't...I don't know yet if there could ever be anything there. But that baby, Regina. I love that child so much and it hasn't even arrived yet. I never understood what that kind of pure love felt like." She winced slightly, looking down at her hands again with sadness. "And you were forced to give that away so long ago. What pain that must have caused you. I'm sorry for how I reacted when she first arrived. I never could have imagined…"

"I know, neither could I.” Regina swallowed around the lump that formed quite suddenly in her throat. “I'd buried her down so deep inside myself that when I saw her, everything inside me opened. And I was so desperate to fix everything that giving her up broke for her. I guess I still am. I would do anything for her. And when I'd thought I lost her again in the bar, I…"  She breathed in heavily, holding back a sob. As though fueled by instinct, he instantaneously pulled her into a tight embrace, encouraging her to melt into him. And like she had countless times before, she allowed herself to do so.

"I almost lost her today. _And_ Emma. And I've never felt so lost or terrified. Suddenly nothing in my life made any sense and if I could just tell them both I loved them, everything would right itself. The moment I saw Leila, and the moment I could finally tell Emma I loved her, it all just made sense. I realized almost immediately that I could no longer lie to you. To myself."

It was as though once she began to tell him the truth, it became impossible for her to stop. She had held it together for so long; the first opportunity to let everything go had arrived, and she couldn't allow it to pass. Regina continued, "Parenting this teenager who has never wanted to be parented is...well...complicated. Like walking through a field of mines.” She laughed, softly.

"And without even comprehending it, Emma has been by my side _helping_ me. Somehow we've become a family; I'm parenting with her, trusting her. _Needing_ her."

She paused, not sure if she should continue. But when she remembered that Robin had gotten another woman pregnant, she didn't really care anymore. "It's never something I intended, I assure you. I'd written her off after she broke my heart in college but she's here and loving me and loving my daughter and it has become much too difficult to resist. And we’ve tried, hopelessly. But we always seem to fall into one another as if we're magically connected. I'm sure you'd rather not..."

"No Regina, it's really okay. Before we began our relationship we _were_ best friends. And above everything else, I don't want to lose that. Regardless of what our parents tried to brainwash us into believing about one another. I'm glad that you've found Emma and that now is the right time for the two of you. I hope she can be for you what I was never destined to be."

"You were always destined to be someone of significance to me, Robin. Our time together was never wasted. We grew together in ways I never could have done on my own, and I’m grateful for the years we've shared. And grateful that, if I was always to be stuck in this situation, that it was with my best friend."

"I agree. You taught me how to love, Regina. Prepared me for a future of caring for someone other than myself. You've shown me, briefly, what the devotion of a _good_ parent could do for a child. I will _always_ think of you fondly."

Regina smiled, nodding in agreement. “Speaking of being a friend, I completely forgot to ask. Do you know what you're having?"

"We're having a little boy. A son! Can you believe it?" His grin was infectious, and she couldn't help but smile back at his exuberance. “Would you...do you want to see the ultrasound photo?”

“Of course I do,” she replied, and with a slight shiver she drew a soft blanket across her shoulders as she watched him swipe through the gallery of photos on his phone, a light behind his eyes that she hadn't seen in quite some time. He crawled backwards on the bed towards “his” side, settling in next to her against the pillows, his legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles like it was any other night they’d spent together. He leaned in closer, their shoulders touching, as he extended the screen of his phone to show her the picture he had finally located.

“Oh, I'd forgotten how small and sweet they are,” Regina cooed, stroking a fingertip across the image of the tiny body in utero. "This is wonderful, dear. Have you discussed any names for him?"

"Well, I certainly wouldn't name him after my father.” They shared a significant _look_ and Regina wrinkled her nose in distaste. Robin continued, “And when he finds out about this child I'm sure he'll be furious, but I've always fancied another name. A simple, strong name. Roland."

"I think that's beautiful. However, speaking of your father and my mother…” She sighed, closing her eyes briefly to calm her nerves. “It would probably be in both of our and our _children's_ best interests if we keep this quiet for the time being. Not make any announcements or give any indication things have changed until we must."

“Absolutely.” He agreed, and a beat of comfortable silence passed before he suddenly swept her into another tight embrace, and Regina’s heart clenched at the _finality_ of it. It was strange, she thought, to feel so _much_ about the prospect of losing something she’d resented having for years. Robin squeezed her more tightly to him, and she knew that he felt the same way.

“So, what do we do now?” It was a quiet, resigned question given somewhere near her ear, and though he had many flaws, and they had both made mistakes, she knew in that moment that some part of her would always miss some part of him.

“Well, I'll stay here, and I'll be a mother. And you'll go there, and you'll be a father.” She turned within his embrace, her chin resting on his shoulder, fingers drawing circles over his back absentmindedly. A soft, sad smile bloomed across her face as she pulled back to catch his eye. “We just won't be doing it together.”

They were each about to embark on a new life adventure, and her heart soared at the thought that she could have Emma, wholly and irrevocably, by her side for the rest of her life. And Robin, at long last, could become the father he had always hoped to be.

“Should I go?” He asked uncertainly, disentangling himself from their embrace and beginning to retreat altogether from the bed.

Regina contemplated briefly; it was well beyond two o’clock in the morning, and she hated the thought of him checking into a room at the inn in the middle of the night. It wouldn't hurt, she decided, to spend one last night before this chapter of their life together came to an end. It seemed that they both understood how different things would be come morning light.

“Stay,” she suggested, drawing the covers back and sliding under them herself, a silent invitation. And for the last time, she fell asleep beside the man who had always been her best friend, at last completely platonically. As his soft snores filled the room, she smiled and hoped to herself that somewhere nearby, Emma Swan was indeed dreaming of her.

 

\--------

 

Emma was beginning to wonder how much longer she would be able to live in her parents' home without completely losing her mind. It had been bordering on a month since the fire and subsequent hospital stay, but them being in her life every day quickly reminded her of the multitude of reasons she lived clear across town.

It wasn't that she didn't _enjoy_ her parents, per se, but they had never had much to offer her from an emotional standpoint. They were victims of young, _true_ love, and their focus on each other often overshadowed their desire to parent her until she was much too old to want the suffocation. There was no in-between with David and Mary Margaret. Either they weren't attentive enough, or they involved themselves in her life beyond a normal, acceptable amount. And unfortunately, for the last few weeks, it seemed they had chosen the latter.

She felt as though she couldn't blink - _breathe_ \- without attracting their attention. She cracked her knuckles and they'd run up the stairs in a panic, throwing the door open expecting to find her lifeless body on the floor. Of course, she was endlessly thankful that her mother wanted so desperately to dote on her, she just wasn't sure she needed _this_ much attention. Normally, Henry was there to draw _both_ of their focus away from her. Without him, Emma was struggling.

She knew that Henry was in exceptional hands, of course; that much couldn't be denied, or she would never have chosen for him to stay with Regina. The boy needed routine, structure, and _time_. But she found herself missing him fiercely and wishing his daily visits lasted longer than an hour here or there. She even, in a ridiculous sort of way, resented the kid just the tiniest amount. She imagined them all together wistfully as she rested uncomfortably on her childhood bed.

The three of them were her _family_ : Henry, Leila, and Regina. She had realized it some time ago, perhaps even before becoming injured. So much time spent away from them had only served to make her heart ache. With a dramatic sigh, her gaze roved over to the clock on the bedside table. 6:48. She closed her eyes and could almost see it in all its beautiful predictability: Regina, commanding several pots and pans on a burning stove; Leila, struggling to complete a difficult literary assignment while waiting for dinner; and Henry, poring seriously over his book of fairy tales alongside her.

Emma smiled, the mental image swimming behind her eyelids as she brought a pillow to rest gently over her face. It was easier, she found, to sleep the time away. Her mother seemed less inclined to bother her if she peeked inside the room and saw her sleeping. She adjusted herself to a sitting position, which had become quite the chore as of late, and reached for her phone, composing a message to Leila, knowing she'd be the quickest to respond. " _Hey kid, what's for dinner?"_

She held the device loosely in her grip and watched as that irritating ellipsis erupted to indicate Leila’s immediate answer. After a few moments, her message arrived.

“ _Regina’s making soup._ ”

Emma frowned and began to type out a response, but quickly erased the words as another message from Leila appeared. “ _She got a late start cooking. Wouldn't let us help her. Do you want me to give her a message_?"

She contemplated the idea briefly before shaking her head to herself, her thumbs furiously firing away her answer. With little else to do in the time she’d been recovering, Emma had become a master of the touch-screen keyboard. " _No I’ll call her later. Thanks. How was your day?"_

At that moment, however, there wasn’t time for a long conversation. She glanced again at the glaringly red numbers of the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was nearly seven o’clock now, and Mary Margaret would undoubtedly be calling her down to dinner at any time.

She reserved her last few moments of peace before the inevitable happened. "Emma!"

She groaned, gingerly turning over onto her back to ease herself off of the bed. With her phone tucked into her pocket, she stepped into her favorite slippers and headed downstairs.

The journey between her bedroom and the small dining room felt like it stretched for miles, but several minutes later Emma approached hesitantly where her parents were already seated. Mary Margaret greeted her with a warm smile, yet her eyes clouded over with concern at the sight of Emma’s stiff venture towards her chair.

"Have you been doing your strengthening exercises?"

"Mom," Emma groaned, dropping into the seat at the head of the dinner table, her mother and father on either side. "I've got healing burns and broken bones all over the place, okay? Give me a break."

She sighed gently and deposited an extra piece of garlic bread onto Emma’s plate. "Well, someone has to push you. It's been a month. All you do is lay in bed on your phone all day and night. You're never going to heal."

"I'm recovering! I do plenty of strengthening on my own time. This is..." She hesitated, biting back the phrase that had been rolling around her head for days. Finally, though, she was going to just say it. "I should have just stayed with Regina."

It was the first time any of them had mentioned anything of the sort since the hospital. Although Mary Margaret had been casually hovering nearby to subtly eavesdrop on their phone calls, Emma wanted to keep as much of her personal life--her _relationship_ , she supposed with satisfaction--hidden from her mother as possible. She couldn't help what information she'd already been forced to divulge. However, Emma knew that the fledgling bond between herself and Regina was fragile enough without stacking yet _another_ obstacle in their path.

"You absolutely should _not_ have. You have no business being away from family right now. I'll never understand why you sent Henry over there. He would have been plenty comfortable here."

"I know he would have." Emma slumped down in her chair with a frustrated huff before wincing in pain and straightening her posture. "But he's way more _settled_ there. Regina's like his...we..."

She didn't know exactly how to describe the relationship her son had with the mayor. She certainly behaved like a co-parent with Emma where Leila was concerned, but over time, the blonde had absolutely begun to see Regina the same way in regard to Henry. She felt a little flutter of guilt even having the brief thought, but she considered that it was perhaps even more than with Graham.

Henry loved his father; there was no denying that. The time they spent together was precious, but Graham had never felt like her _partner_. Regina, however, was a different story. She had latched onto Henry fiercely and without abandon, but it was so much more than simple affection. She knew how to take care of him, in the way that Emma did. Mostly, Emma assumed this came from observation during the time they spent together. A larger part of her wanted to attribute it to fate; that if she had always been meant to be a part of Leila's life, then perhaps Regina had always been meant to be a part of Henry's.

They were sentiments that she would never be able to put into words, she realized as Mary Margaret waited patiently for Emma to justify Henry's preference for the Mayor and her home. David ate in silence, acutely aware of the tension bubbling beneath the interaction.

"Regina's my... _person_?" she finished lamely. While she and Mary Margaret both knew it was so much more than that, the simplified title would suffice for the moment. "We spend a lot of time together, and Henry feels safe there. He didn't need to be here, watching his mom recover from painful injuries, in a small house where we'd be on top of each other. He needs the structure and routine he can get from her.”

Mary Margaret huffed to herself as she took a sip of her water, looking to her husband for support. He casually flipped the page to his newspaper and ignored them both, hoping for an evening of peace _for once_. Much to everyone’s dismay, she continued. “I just don't think it's appropriate is all. He should be with us.”

David dropped one side of his paper, and gave his wife a look. “Emma is Henry’s mother, darling. And while you and I both wish he were here with us, it's time to respect her decision and let it go.”

Emma smirked at her mother’s aghast look, reaching for yet another piece of garlic bread and tearing it apart. She knew that Mary Margaret was simply having a bad day; for the most part, her attitude towards her relationship with Regina was much more curious than accusatory. She plopped a piece in her mouth and took a glance at her phone one last time, hoping that Regina would message her and save her from this torture.

She had indeed missed a message from the woman in the time she had been consuming her dinner heartily. A bright smile lit up her face as she read, “ _If you wanted to talk to me, dear, you could have just called. You didn't have to go through our daughter first._ ”

As she began furiously typing a response, Mary Margaret’s eyes grew wide and excited, a complete turnaround from mere moments before. “Who is that? Is it Regina?”

Emma glanced over to her, incredulous, as she finished typing and hit send. “So _now_ you’re okay with it?”

“This is different,” Mary Margaret dismissed with a wave. “This isn't about Henry. What did she say?”

“No way!” Emma teased, turning away from her mother to check Regina’s newest message. Ever since she’d had an honest conversation with Mary Margaret about their developing relationship while in the hospital, the woman had been following their interactions like her favorite soap opera. And while it was amusing at times, Emma was far too private a person to give her too much to enjoy.

She swiped across the screen of her phone, two new messages waiting to be read.

“ _Be nice to your mother. She’s very close to letting you out to play.”_

“ _And I would_ **_very_ ** _much like to play.”_

Emma imagined her, sitting at the table with their children, hearty bowls of soup and warm, crusty bread in front of them to combat winter’s chill creeping closer. Leila and Henry would no doubt be arguing about some inconsequential nonsense, Regina allowing them to do so while tucked into herself at the head of the table, flirting with Emma quite secretly. She blushed at the thought.

It looked like Mary Margaret was close to bursting as Emma grinned lasciviously. “You're blushing, Emma! What did she say?”

“ _Nothing_ ,” Emma replied casually, carefully rising from her chair and giving her mother a knowing smirk, a sing-song to her response. “Thanks for di-nner!”

She laughed at Mary Margaret’s indignant, playfully offended gasp and gathered her plate and silverware into her arms to bring them into the kitchen. On her way out of the dining room, she stopped to give her father a quick kiss on the cheek; he hummed his appreciation for the gesture, yet never quite took his attention away from the garlic bread. Emma understood that commitment intimately. If there was one thing her parents knew how to cook well, it was carbs.

Before long, she had settled beneath the night sky in the backyard, the stars glowing more brightly as though specifically intended to welcome her back into the outside world. She knew by force of habit that Henry was now in the in-between stage of his evening, that coveted time slot reserved for video games between dinner and getting ready for bed. But she hadn't seen him since the night before, and her heart ached with missing him.

Predictably, two full-length tones sounded after vocally commanding her phone to dial Regina’s number, and then a smooth, deep voice answered, sending a shock to her system that she hoped would never cease to happen.

“ _Hello, Emma_.”

She smiled, relaxing into the hammock that had taken her longer than she cared to admit to settle into in the first place. “Hey, Regina. How’s everything going there?”

The brunette chuckled warmly, and Emma faintly heard the sounds of porcelain dishes gently knocking together. _She must still be cleaning up from dinner_. Emma yearned, not for the first time, to be there to complete even those menial tasks right beside her.

“ _The usual._ ” The sound of water dissipated, and Emma heard her moving swiftly about the kitchen, presumably to return the dishes to their homes. “ _Leila just fell asleep on the couch with her nose literally in a book, and Henry is on what I believe is his thirtieth attempt to slay that dragon_.”

“He’ll get it eventually,” Emma affirmed, and the distinct ache in her chest swelled once more. “Can I talk to him?”

“ _Of course_ ,” Regina answered immediately, her tone quite clearly indicating that she felt it was a stupid question. Several moments later, a little voice filled the airwaves instead. “ _Mom_?”

“Hey, kid,” Emma grinned, affection blossoming within her more rapidly than she could contain. “I missed you today.”

“ _I wish you were here with us_ ,” he replied simply; he was never one to sugarcoat the truth. “ _Grandma and Grandpa are fun and all, but it's pretty good at Regina’s too_.”

He seemed to be under the impression that Emma _preferred_ living with her parents, and in a way, it almost seemed easier to allow him to think so. “Yeah, I'll bet. But Regina has her hands full taking care of _you_ , you know? We can leave _me_ up to Grandma for a little while longer.”

“ _Not too long,”_ Henry admonished _. “Regina said you're just being stubborn about your exercises._ ”

“Oh, did she now?” Emma mused, a small laugh bubbling up inside her. “Well you can tell Regina--”

“ _You can tell her,_ ” Henry cut her off effectively, a playful tone softening his childlike attempt at sass. “ _We get to go see it tomorrow still, right_?”

The “it” to which he was referring was the progress that had been made with construction to the bar. They weren't very far from being able to return, and she had made plans with Henry to go and take a look at it when he finished with school for the day.

“Definitely.” She confirmed, and while she heard the definite blast of some form of magic in the game that he was clearly still playing, she also heard the yawn he was trying to conceal.

“Sounds like it might be time for bed,” she suggested, feeling a little out of sorts that she wasn't really the one who got to make that call at the moment. It was hard sometimes to try to parent him from a different household, but he was a good kid. The best, in fact; she was sure of that.

“ _Okay_ ,” he agreed easily, and she beamed at being proven right. “ _Love you_.”

“Love you too, kid.”

And at that, she heard the scramble of him vacating the family room, the shuffle of little feet across Regina’s impeccably polished floors, and the muted discussion between the two of them about his getting ready for bed.

“ _Goodnight, sweetheart. Don't forget to brush your teeth._ ” Henry had reached an age where he decided he didn't need to be tucked in anymore, a decision for which Emma wasn't quite sure she was prepared. She continued to listen as Regina, presumably, made her way into the family room to send Leila upstairs as well. The muffled voices continued in an argument that served to amuse Emma greatly.

“ _Leila_.” No response. “ _Leila. Wake up_.”

“ _Can't I just stay here_?”

“ _Leila_ , _go to bed_.”

“ _But I've already made my cocoon! Here is fine._ ”

“ _No_.”

“ _Why not_?”

“ _Because I said so_.”

“ _I hate you_.”

“ _I'm sure you do. Go to your room. Now_.”

Emma laughed heartily from the other end of the line as she heard Regina follow the angry stomping to the foot of the stairs, a heavy sigh accompanying the sound. The noises of the house faded away followed by the distinct _click_ of a door closing, and Emma assumed that Regina, too, now sat beneath the same blanket of stars.

“Short fuse tonight?”

“ _It seems so_ ,” Regina sighed, and Emma noticed for the first time in a while just how _tired_ she sounded.

"Do I need to come over there and kill them?"

“ _No. Maybe if we wait long enough, they'll kill each other_.”

There was a long pause between them, a comfortable silence they often found themselves in while they were on the phone. Emma squeezed her therapy putty and looked up to the stars. The creaking of Regina's swing and the soft, sweet breathing could be heard on each end. Occasionally Regina would clear her throat, but mostly they found themselves just enjoying the silent company. Regina was grateful after a long day of hearing the town whining, and the evenings of the kids whining; Emma, after dealing with her mother. To be so close physically in the city, they must have been miles away in loneliness and exhaustion.

Regina inhaled softly, and Emma could distinctly hear a soft wheeze from the back of her throat, but she decided to let it go as the last thing the brunette would do was admit to the defeat of an illness after all the stress she'd been under. To her surprise, Regina was the first to speak. " _I miss you, Emma. Achingly so_."

"I know. I feel so guilty leaving you to deal with both kids all on your own. We should be doing this together. I _want_ to be doing this with you."

"No, Emma," she paused, waiting for the blonde to just shut up already. "I _miss_ you."

Emma gulped. _Oh._ "What, exactly, do you miss?"

"Well, I _can_ tell you that there are _many_ things I want to be doing with you right now." The pitch of her voice dropped suggestively, and Emma gasped quietly into the phone. "But I suppose we'll just have to wait until you get around to taking care of your physical therapy."

"Well, you know, some of these stretches are really hard to do by myself." Emma defended herself feebly, but she stood next to no chance of winning when Regina decided she was feeling predatory.

"That's a shame," Regina sighed, affecting a flippant, casual tone. “Because the sooner you're deemed physically able by _Dr_. Mary Margaret, the sooner I can help you with them, as well as a number of other...wellness activities." She paused briefly to allow Emma to ponder that thought. "Not to mention my large jacuzzi tub. _Excellent_ for rehabilitation.”

It was the most blatantly forward Regina had ever been with her, and Emma wasn't quite sure how to handle it. The suggestions she made caused Emma's stomach to churn pleasantly, and one in particular stuck out in her mind. "A jacuzzi tub big enough...for two?"

" _More_ than big enough," Regina purred, and Emma grew suddenly very warm against the November breeze. "I prefer a good bit of space. Flexibility is important. Which, I'm sure, you've been learning in therapy."

“Flexibility is _definitely_ key _.”_ Emma smirked; if Regina wanted to play games, then they could play games.

Regina opened her mouth to retort and as she inhaled sharply she let out a painful cough that made Emma wince from the other end at the pain that Regina no doubt felt herself. “Woah, Regina, are you alright? Maybe we should go inside.”

“I'm not sick.” She quickly fired back, almost as if Emma had accused her of something terrible.

Emma rolled her eyes, shaking her head softly. “Alright, well, for someone determined _not_ to be sick, you sure are pushing your luck being outside in the cold. Come on, let's go inside and get warm.”

“Well, when you put it that way, I _could_ use a warm bath. I think I'm just having a sinus attack, some humidity will clear it right up.”

“Oh," Emma breathed, not sure she was ready to let their limited time together come to an end.

Regina chuckled warmly, a soothing balm to Emma's dejection at the thought of losing her. “Don't worry, you can come along.”

 

\--------

 

Regina was definitely getting sick. She could feel it in her head and in her chest. Her joints ached and her head was constantly in a fog. Her voice cracked after speaking in any capacity and she found herself feeling very 'blah' every morning when she woke up, continuously starting her days off in a funk. On top of the oncoming _something_ , she hadn't properly seen Emma in more than three weeks. It was too long, and she found herself counting down the days until their lives would return to normal. Emma was progressing with her physical therapy, but not as much as her doctor would have liked.

She'd come to rely on Emma as a constant presence; the blonde’s spirit uplifted Regina and made her days better. While she always woke to a ' _Good morning, beautiful_ ' text, and a subsequent phone call with Robin's confirmed absence, not seeing the blonde's bright smile first thing in the morning drowned her spirits and she realized how _immersed_ Emma had become in her daily life.

Upon waking _this_ morning, she did so to no message from Emma and an empty, cold room where she suddenly _felt_ the loneliness. Usually, she reveled in waking up alone, where she could bury herself in the multitude of pillows and blankets and have the entire space to herself.

But as she slowly opened her eyes she immediately let out a long, pained groan, her body protesting any and all movement. She cleared her throat, which led her to cough painfully, the dreaded rattle in her chest present and she just _knew_  something unfun and aggressive had arrived. She called her secretary and left a message, letting her know that she was feeling under the weather and wouldn't be coming in to work. _Must get ahead of this before it gets out of control_. She knew a day in bed actually relaxing and allowing herself to sleep would hopefully nip it in the bud and she'd be able to continue on with her week as planned.

She checked her phone one more time, her mind wandering briefly to Emma, and slowly eased herself out of bed. She knew the kids would be awake soon, or rather, need to be _woken_ _up_ , and she wanted to get them out the door as soon as possible; preferably without them noticing she was feeling under the weather. The last thing she needed was either of them worrying about her, or worse, telling Emma she was ill. Because the blonde would worry, and the faster Emma healed, the faster they could be together again more regularly. And that would make everything right again.

It was undoubtedly the stress that brought all this on. Regina had been going non-stop since the fire; constantly worrying, constantly stressing herself and pushing herself to the max. She took on too much at work in order to make the days of Emma's recovery go by more quickly, spent little time sleeping, and more time outside thinking in the cool night air looking at the stars, wanting to be alone with her thoughts, or alone with Emma, away from the full house. Not to mention all the annoyingly supervised hospital visits had subjected her to every germ known to humanity.

She crept down the stairs, tightly gripping the railing to support her tired frame as she made her way to the kitchen, hoping to get breakfast started. From there, she knew Leila could direct Henry and hopefully get them out the door quickly and without incident. As she pushed past the doors, she immediately put the kettle on the burner, lighting the flame. She'd try to talk them both into oatmeal, she decided. The cool weather had descended upon Storybrooke, and a warm meal to start the day might aid in warding off any illness she might pass to them. She went for the container of oats, pulled down some brown sugar, honey and raisins, along with their daily vitamins, and set everything out on the counter. She knew them well enough that she wouldn't start making it for them unless they confirmed their interest, and just in case, she pulled down their preferred boxes of cereal and two bowls for them to help themselves.

Regina took a deep breath, stifling a cough as she clutched at her chest, wincing painfully. She worked her way back up the stairs, knocking on Leila’s door for a few moments until she received the usual, sleepy groan accompanied with an “ _I’m up, jeeze_ ,” and moved on to Henry. While he was certainly the morning person Leila was not, adjusting to a full time life at Regina’s house had messed with his schedule just enough that he needed the extra help. “Henry, it's time for breakfast.” She knocked twice, knowing it'd be just enough, and continued on to her own bedroom to put on her robe and brush her teeth and hair.

Without incident, both kids were out the door on time. Their homework checked, lunches packed, uniforms pristine and ironed, and Regina absolutely exhausted from just the smallest effort. She convinced them she was fine, taking a half day to get some paperwork done in the peace and quiet of her study, and that she'd pick them up promptly at dismissal for the ride to Emma’s to see her for dinner.

After the argument at the hospital about where Henry would stay, Regina had kept her distance from the house itself. She ventured inside once or twice when Emma first arrived home, feeling the kids should have some support, but the constant glances and inquisitive looks she received during her stay led the two women to agree that staying away would be best. Their decision was strengthened by Mary Margaret creeping outside Emma’s door when she received phone calls from Regina, and her sudden, fixed curiosity of what they were talking about. All in all, while the uneasiness of being away from her love increased, it was better in the long run.

Now, however, as she felt her forehead, her labored breathing increased as she climbed the stairs, she knew she was running a fever. She sighed as she crossed the threshold of her room, shrugging off her robe, and allowed it to drop to the floor. She rubbed her chest and winced as she made her way to the bathroom, deciding to admit defeat and take some medicine. Knowing the kids wouldn't be home (and could catch a ride with Mary Margaret if she happened to oversleep) she broke a PM tablet in half and added it to her sinus medicine, hoping for a bit of relief in her sleep. Dredging to her bed after downing the pills, she contemplated her next move. She knew neither Robin nor the kids could walk in on her and the idea of the enticing coolness under her fevered body was too much to pass up. She undressed from the waist up, a pair of small, silken shorts the only clothing remaining. She hoped the cool, silk sheets would bring her some relief and allow her to get to slumber more quickly.

She slid into the bed, burrowing into the massive pillows and blankets and immediately found relief for her aching body. She reached for her phone on the nightstand and quickly composed a short email to Emma’s mother explaining she was under the weather and intended to try and sleep it off and if she could please bring both children with her after school for dinner, she'd greatly appreciate it. She knew Mary Margaret wasn't pleased with their little arrangement, wanting Henry with them and not _exactly_ understanding why Leila was always tagging along, but she seemed to tolerate it and had even taken a liking to Leila in similar ways Emma had. And for that, Regina was grateful.

At long last, she buried her face into the soft mound of pillows, the pressure building under her eyes as she closed them. She wasn't usually one to sleep on her stomach, but with the cool sheets pressed against her bare skin, the relief on her fevered body was undeniable. With just the soft, flat top sheet drawn up to her waist and the ceiling fan softly churning a breeze across her bare back, Regina finally succumbed to her exhaustion and slept.

 

\--------

 

With no one at home to monitor her activity, Emma decided that she was going to attempt a brief venture into the real world. She was capable of walking, after all, but her parents’ home wasn't quite close enough to her favorite things in town to warrant her venturing out on foot. Emma had been unable to adjust to the idea of not waking Henry for school, and so she arose each morning with the sun, despite the lack of responsibility she now faced. After lying there for a few hours, mindlessly observing some awful reality show on the tiny television, she had had enough.

Emma had always been someone who craved physical activity; she was fairly certain this was why she’d fallen in love with the service industry. Bartending in college had been perfectly strenuous and exciting for her, and operating her own bar was exactly the kind of challenge she loved. But without the bar to occupy her both mentally and physically, Emma was going stir-crazy. There were only so many of Henry’s video games she could play before she felt her brain was going to turn into mush.

And so, she figured, she had options. She could attempt to walk to Regina’s house, but she was still in far too much pain and was too weak to make it on her own. The next best thing would be to convince Ruby to drive her around for a while. As always, her friend didn’t work at the diner on Monday mornings, and Emma knew it wouldn’t be particularly difficult to convince her to spend some time together. She also knew that Ruby would have no problem with assisting her on a specific task.

She had simply forgotten to send Regina a message wishing her a good morning, and now that it was creeping upon afternoon, Emma was surprised that she still hadn’t heard from the mayor. They had been closer than ever lately, and as such, Emma knew that Regina had been going home for lunch much more frequently. She was determined to be there to see her.

Predictably, Ruby answered on the last ring before the call would be sent to voicemail, her tone still groggy from sleep. “Hello?”

“It's almost noon,” Emma complained, rolling over from her position lying on her back to her stomach, and cringed at the shooting pain across her ribs. She consistently tested her limits, whether or not it was in her best interest. “Why are you still asleep?”

“It's Monday,” Ruby groaned, and Emma smiled as she heard the telltale shuffling of her friend moving from the bedroom to the bathroom. If she’d made her leave the bed, the hard work was done. “I don't wake up on Mondays.”

“Well, now you're up,” Emma grinned, and the sound of water running filled the airwaves between them. “And I think we should hang out.”

“Where?” Ruby inquired through muffled speech; Emma heard what she knew to be her friend’s morning routine beginning and reminded herself that she probably needed to brush her _own_ teeth again. Hours spent alone away from the construction at the bar and her nagging family made her feel the need to freshen up. “We can't exactly hang out at _home_ , with all those construction workers, you know… _re-building_ it.” She paused, a thoughtful silence passing between them, and Emma knew Ruby’s mind had filled with images of the attractive work crew. “Or can we?”

“No,” Emma insisted flatly, and she _felt_ the pout taking over Ruby’s face. “I mean, I don't know, I just don't want to be _here_ anymore. With my parents. Especially without Henry.”

“I get it. I miss him too.” Ruby agreed, and Emma smiled. “How much longer are you keeping him away from your parents?”

“That's not…” Emma floundered, surprised by the knowing tone in Ruby’s voice. “It's good for him with Regina. He has a routine. Structure.”

“As opposed to his other option to stay with Principal Swan and your father, where there are no rules and it's a complete madhouse,” Ruby argued facetiously.

Emma rolled her eyes. She had defended her decision ad nauseum, and she found she couldn't bring herself to do it once more. “Anyway. Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” Ruby confirmed, and Emma began to dress with a satisfied smirk. “I'll be there in like ten minutes.”

When Ruby pulled into the driveway of Emma’s parents’ home, the blonde waiting patiently outside for her, Ruby judged her attire and told her she looked like hell.  Which, in all honesty, was probably true. She didn't have much in the way of amenities, since all her things were smoke-filled and deemed 'unsatisfactory for healing' by her mother. She had what she needed, and that was fine with her.

Despite the fact that they had been able to go into the loft above the bar and retrieve any of their things that they wanted while it was being rebuilt (the things unaffected by smoke, anyway,) Regina had almost completely converted one of her guest bedrooms into a room for Henry. And unlike the reservations she’d had in the past, Emma found that she didn't quite mind this time. Without even meaning to, she had completely allowed Regina to become a parent to Henry. And if the brunette wanted to spoil him, Emma felt it unfair to reject her efforts.

"So where are we going?" Ruby inquired as they began to drive in the opposite direction down the street on which she'd grown up, in the direction of the rest of the town.

"Granny's?" Emma suggested hopefully, to which Ruby predictably crinkled her nose in distaste.

"No way, Emma," she complained, flipping the signal down harshly to indicate a left turn. "I just came from there, and I'm off today."

Emma knew this would be her argument, but it was the plan that made the most logical sense. It was within her physical capability to walk anywhere she would want to go from the diner, namely to Regina's house to hopefully catch her on her lunch break.

"But _I_ haven't had a Granny's grilled cheese in _way_ too long," Emma reasoned, and combined with a specific pout that she knew Ruby couldn't resist, she found herself minutes later walking into the diner, and subsequently enjoying an overdue lunch date with one of her very favorite people. She would just have to make sure to omit this small detail of her day from Regina.

While the mayor had certainly come a long way on the subject of her ex-turned-roommate, Emma knew better than to advertise the fact that the first person she'd seen other than her parents in weeks was not Regina herself. And so, when their lunch came to an end and Ruby offered her a ride home, Emma politely declined, insisting that she needed to take a walk around town while she still had some freedom.

"Don't forget to meet us at the bar at 4:30," she reminded her, to which Ruby gave a tiny mock salute and disappeared into the attached bed-and-breakfast where she had been living for the time being, presumably to nap away the rest of her day. Emma couldn't blame her; she knew better than most the advantage of a good afternoon nap.

She glanced at the time on the screen on her phone before shoving it back into her pocket harshly, moving towards Regina's house with determination. It had been too long. She needed to see her before she lost what was left of her mind.

 

\--------

 

Several minutes later, Emma approached 108 Mifflin St. with a smile, noting that Regina's sleek, shiny black vehicle was still in the driveway. _Good, she's still home_. With the key Regina had given her months previously, Emma let herself into the house, hoping to surprise Regina wherever she may be. It was likely that by now, she would have to leave soon to return to work, but any spare moment Emma could have with her was worth the trouble.

A quick survey of the first floor told her that, surprisingly, Regina was nowhere to be found. _Huh. Maybe her bedroom? That's weird_. She climbed the stairs slowly, a little unsettled by the silence in a home that should have been occupied. She made her way to the end of the hall where Regina's bedroom door was slightly ajar, and the sight that met her upon peeking inside was more surprising than any she had imagined.

Even in the semi-darkness of the room, Emma could see that Regina was, quite simply, passed out; sprawled on her stomach in the center of the bed, a thin sheet covering her to the waist, dark tendrils of hair pulled over one shoulder. Regina had her arms crossed over her head, drawing a sharp angle to the bed, a solid line for Emma's eyes to follow from elbow, to shoulder, to the barest hint of the side of a breast, to her exposed hip. It was more than Emma could take after so long of not seeing her _at all;_ her upper body was completely bare, a fact that made Emma's stomach drop to her feet. It was more of Regina than she had ever seen. As she crept closer so as not to wake and startle the woman, her heart began to beat wildly.

While she had never explicitly _seen_ Regina sleep, the unceremonious way that she was strewn about, all over the bed, just didn't _feel_ like Regina, and it worried her. Something was wrong. And while every fiber of her being kept reminding her Regina was all but naked, her protective instincts took over. She sat gently on the edge of the bed, reaching out nearly to touch the woman on her shoulder, but drawing her hand back at the last moment because of all the _skin_ exposed to her. The last thing she wanted to do was scare her.

Luckily, the shift of her weight onto the mattress did most of the work for her. Regina began to stir, and Emma patted the bed next to her shoulder softly to get her attention.

"Regina."

But despite her best efforts, the brunette startled as she awoke, jumping up in alarm, a gasp catching in her throat and causing a bout of deep, chest-rattling coughs. Emma felt an acute pang of sympathy, and offered a sweet smile as Regina finally turned her head to look at her for the first time.

"You're...here?" She rasped, gazing through squinted eyes at Emma's face. It was clear that she wasn't sure whether or not she was dreaming it. Emma nodded, markedly avoiding casting her gaze down as the brunette shuffled with difficulty to her side, perhaps forgetting her state of undress.

"I'm here," she confirmed, reaching out a palm to tentatively press it against Regina's forehead. "You're burning up. Are you okay?"

She could have teased her about her relentless denial of being sick, but she knew that this wasn't the moment. She had never seen Regina so….adorably _pathetic_ before. She cleared her throat gently as she observed her surroundings, finally drawing the sheet up over her body and wrapping it around her chest.

"I'm fine," she tried to assure Emma, but the way the word stuck in her throat on the last syllable indicated the opposite. Emma smiled sympathetically, softly sliding her boots from her feet off the side of the bed, curling around her healing ribs out of habit to avoid pain. She turned her body in towards Regina, fully intending to stretch out across the bed right alongside her. But, she realized as her body froze, it was important that Regina say it was okay for her to do so.

"Can I…?" Her question trailed off, not quite sure what exactly she was asking.

"Please?" Regina answered immediately, deciding for both of them.

Emma nodded once more, swinging her legs under the sheet and inching closer to Regina's feverish body. Regina groaned miserably, waiting for Emma to settle in beside her, and Emma glanced at her from the corner of her eye.

"You know, I've never seen you so…" She hesitated, and Regina tensed, gripping the sheet more tightly to her chest. "....so _sick_ and sweet before.”

The brunette sighed, and Emma was relieved to see her roll her eyes. That meant that at least s _ome_ part of her felt well enough to employ an attitude.

"Shut up." Regina grumbled, but as Emma finally rested comfortably on her back, Regina moved inwards to curl around her side, her head falling heavily against Emma's chest. The blonde hissed a sharp inhale; it nearly knocked the wind out of her, and Regina withdrew in horror.

"No, you're fine," Emma insisted weakly, to which Regina gave a dubious, doubtful glare.

"Just...a little lower?" Emma suggested, and though she meant it completely innocently, when Regina adjusted her body against Emma's lower half, she realized her mistake.

Regina's head was now pressed instead somewhere between her stomach and her hips, an arm thrown across Emma's thighs as she pressed the rest of her body lengthwise against Emma's legs. It was sweet, Emma thought, the way that Regina was clinging to her for support when she felt so obviously miserable. It made her feel even worse about the fact that, with her hand tangled within Regina's messy hair and fingers drifting lazily up and down her bare back, both her heart and mind were racing wildly.

Considering everything that had happened to them thus far, this was certainly the most intimate they had ever been. And while Emma wanted desperately to revel in that, there was one detail it seemed she could never let go.

"Regina?"

"Hmm?" The brunette responded sleepily, turning her face to squint one eye up at Emma in question.

"Where's Robin?" It was quiet, resolute. For as much as she wanted to ignore his very existence, she found it next to impossible. Regina had told her multiple times while she was in the hospital that she loved her. And while Emma knew that to be true, they had barely had a moment to speak without being overheard in three weeks. A tiny, insecure part of her questioned at the back of her mind whether Regina had simply said those things because she was afraid Emma might die that day. And suddenly, with someone else's nearly naked fiancée strewn across her lap, she found she needed a little security.

"Paris." Regina assured her simply, as though there was nothing irregular about what they were doing. Emma, however, didn't have it in her to be quite so blasé about it. She nodded, sudden, hot tears welling up in her eyes, and she gently, subtly began trying to extract herself from Regina's embrace.

"Maybe I should…"

"No." Regina held her firmly in place, her hands gripping Emma by the hips tightly in a move that both startled her and made her blood pump more quickly through her veins. "Emma, please."There it was again; twice in less than half an hour had Regina pleaded with her, and it was quite unlike her to do so. The brunette continued, resuming her position atop her body. “He's in Paris, _permanently_. But I'm much too...please. For now, be _here_ with me."

While Emma had no idea what to make of that, she knew that if what Regina needed was for her to be in the moment, then she would give her best effort.

"Love you," Regina mumbled, the softest reminder, her fingertips dipping just below the hem of Emma's shirt and resting against her stomach, drawing occasional patterns to match Emma's own on her back as she drifted back to sleep.

And Emma, who reached out to set an alarm on her phone (someone would have to get the children from school, after all,) fell asleep shortly after, truly _resting_ for the first time in far too long.

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

It was no more than perhaps an hour or two, but Emma knew for certain that she had just experienced the best nap of her life. For once, she didn't wake up with uncomfortable aches and pains; she felt relaxed, and undeniably…whole. It was more than she had expected to feel when she’d resolved to visit Regina in the first place, but it was a turn of events for which she was grateful.

She awoke, to her surprise, to a cool spot where Regina’s warm, feverish body had been curled around her. The dim glow of the light from under the adjacent bathroom door told her that she hadn't gone far, and so Emma simply relaxed back into the luxurious mound of pillows on what was undoubtedly the most incredible bed on which she had ever slept. Several minutes passed during which she allowed Regina’s absence to go uninvestigated, but a small part of her was still worried. She had been extremely under the weather when Emma arrived, and she just wanted to know that she was okay.

Emma rose from the bed slowly, stopping to stretch her body in as many ways as she could manage, before quietly padding across the room towards the bathroom where she could now hear the dull hum of rushing water; she quirked a brow inquisitively, reaching up to rap her knuckles against the door gently. “Regina?”

“You can come in,” came the warm, velvety response from inside the bathroom, and with a somewhat nervous gulp, Emma slowly turned the door handle and pushed it open gently; though truthfully, no amount of nerves could have prepared her for what awaited her on the other side.

Regina sat, legs crossed primly, on the edge of the tub as it filled with water so hot that steam rose from the surface. With her hair twisted in some sort of elegant and yet still casual knot at the crown of her head, she gave Emma a sly smile, her nude body wrapped only in a fluffy, white towel.

“Feeling better?” It was the quickest response Emma could come up with without spouting off the number of significantly more lewd comments that sprung to mind, and Regina bit her lip against a suddenly shy smile, indicating with a small jerk of her head for Emma to step more fully into the room with her.

“Much,” she replied, reaching down to drag her fingers through the surface of the water to check its temperature. “It's amazing the difference that taking a morning off from life can make.”

“I know the feeling,” Emma agreed, leaning back against the door as she watched Regina slowly drop a small amount of liquid into the steady stream of water, fragrant bubbles erupting over the surface in its wake.

“I thought perhaps you might like to see for yourself the healing power of this bathtub, like I told you last night.”

“Oh,” Emma answered, surprise coloring her response. “This is for me?”

She couldn't help but glance down at the juncture where the corners of Regina’s towel met and wrapped together, quite in the center of what Emma deemed the best cleavage she had ever seen. But then again, perhaps she was biased.

“Oh, no,” Regina shook her head, tilting it to the side as her eyes locked onto Emma’s significantly. “This is for us.”

She reached out with one hand, and Emma linked their fingers together automatically, stepping closer into the room as though drawn there by more than just instinct. Regina rose and stood before her, one hand clinging to the towel in front of her chest, the other playing casually with the bottom seam of Emma’s shirt.

“You're welcome to say no,” Regina began softly, to which Emma vehemently shook her head.

“Are you crazy?” Emma queried, disentangling their fingers in order to lift her shirt from her body as swiftly as physically possible. “This is literally a dream come true.”

It was true; she hadn't been able to get Regina’s voice saying the phrase jacuzzi tub for two out of her head the night before as she was falling asleep, rendering her helpless against several dreams variating on one common, bubble-filled, naked theme.

“Well, that's good to know,” Regina chuckled, her hands immediately reaching out to rest against Emma’s newly exposed skin over her toned abdomen. Her brow furrowed, taking in the various healing bruises and burns for the first time.

Emma cringed, following Regina’s eyes; she had forgotten for the first moment in the last month about her broken body. She sighed apologetically as she struggled to get out of her jeans (though it was nothing, she reasoned, compared with the struggle she had faced getting into them.)

“Let me help you,” Regina suggested, and Emma’s eyes roved up to the ceiling in embarrassment. There she was, being undressed by the most gorgeous woman on the planet, and she had never felt worse about her body.

“Just pretend you're not seeing me like…this,” Emma pleaded, easily stepping out of her pants and kicking them to the side once Regina managed to get them to her ankles.

“What? Why wouldn't I want to see you?” Regina asked seriously; she moved her body in closer, her arms moving to wrap around the blonde’s waist in a tentative embrace that still left enough space between them for comfort.

“Because,” Emma began,” You're…you know…” She gestured vaguely between them in an up-and-down motion to indicate, well, pretty much all of Regina. “And I'm...broken.”

“You're perfect,” Regina breathed, her own body propelling naturally forward in an attempt to be as close to Emma as possible. Her hands moved from the blonde’s lower back slowly upwards, her chin resting on Emma’s shoulder as she carefully undid the clasp of her bra, the material falling away and to the floor between their bodies. “Emma, you...what you did…”

Her eyes glistened fiercely as she pulled back ever so slightly to look into Emma’s face, her fingers traveling softly from her back and down to her hips to hook into the sides of her underwear.

“I intend to show you just how much it meant to me.”

Their eye contact never broke as Regina slid them the rest of the way down her legs, and Emma stepped out of her last garment, ignoring the way her brain attempted to flare up a thousand insecurities. Yet there Regina was, kneeling and then returning to stand before her in nothing but a towel, wanting her anyway. That was powerful in a way she couldn't comprehend.

“But for right now?” Regina continued quietly, taking a step back and letting her towel drop to the floor, the last barrier between them gone. “Let's just take this bath together.”

 

\--------

 

“You were right, you know.” Emma commented casually, scooping a handful of bubbles from the surface of the water near her chest and blowing them towards Regina. “About the jacuzzi tub.”

“Did you doubt me?” Regina countered playfully, crossing one ankle over the other underwater in a way that caused her foot to brush against the outside of Emma’s thigh. Her breathing hitched slightly as a result, and she noticed that Regina noticed, if the little victorious smirk on her face was any indication.

They were facing opposite one another at either end of the luxurious bathtub, the lights turned low and more candles than Emma could count casting a soft glow over the room. It was more relaxation than she had felt in ages, and she was infinitely thankful that Regina had made it happen.

“Of course not,” Emma assured her, once more playing with the bubbles that were starting to dissipate. While it was absolutely large enough for two people to share, they could not do so without their legs pressing together underwater, the jets swirling around them in an intoxicating rhythm. Emma couldn't believe how intimate it felt; that she was so irresistibly close to a completely naked, wet Regina and yet nothing (much) had happened between them physically. It was wonderful.

It was torture.

It was the closest Emma had felt to being drunk since before the fire, she thought ruefully. It was easy for them to sit in companionable silence, Regina tilting her head forward every so often to allow the steam to enter her sinus cavity and offer her some relief. That was the “purpose” of this bath, according to the brunette, but the way she subtly redistributed the bubbles around her body to restrict Emma’s view less and less led the blonde to believe there was at least a little bit of a different motive. But hey, she figured, if Regina Mills wanted to take a bubble bath with her on a Monday afternoon, who was she to complain?

Another companionable silence fell between them, during which Regina tilted her head back against the edge of the tub, the enticing expanse of her smooth neck exposed as she closed her eyes and groaned deeply. Emma couldn't help the way her body nearly lurched towards her at the sound before she restrained herself. Every part of her wanted Regina, certainly, but that wasn't what this time was about.

“So,” Regina began quietly, her eyes still closed as Emma watched her swallow hard. “I ended things with Robin.”

It wasn't at all what Emma could have expected her to say, and the new silence that followed was consuming in its depth. She accepted the statement and processed it quietly, her heartbeat pounding in her ears as her mind whirred into action replaying each of their recent interactions. When enough time had passed that Regina began to worry at her lack of response, she cracked one eye open, observing the way Emma stared wide-eyed and wordlessly somewhere to the left of her chest. “Emma?”

“When?” She responded quietly, and Regina sighed, shifting her body upwards into a more seated position.

Regina inhaled deeply again, the muscles in her shoulders tensing in a way that made Emma nervous, but also made her want to rub the stress from her body and she had to mentally restrain herself before her hands roamed to places such a heavy conversation did not warrant them to be touching. "The night you were injured."

Emma stiffened, and hurt flashed through her eyes. "A month ago?"

"Yes. And before you get angry with me,” Regina implored, dipping her head forward to hold Emma’s gaze, “Please understand that my whole life has been about being with and for someone else. I needed time to adjust."

"I can...understand that. But you didn't have to go through a breakup alone. We're still...you know, whatever it is we are."

"Oh, Emma. We're...everything. Which is why we're here, together, like this." She reached under the water to softly rub her thumb on Emma's calf, hoping to convey her sincerity. She smiled. "I appreciate the offer of support. But I wasn't keeping it from you, I wanted you to heal physically and be ready for a real chance at an us."

She sighed, looking down at the bubbles by her stomach. She'd exhausted herself, physically and mentally trying to do just that. To let go of the past and focus on the future. To mourn Robin and her relationship the proper way. She raised her head to look at Emma's dumbfounded gaze. Determined to make her understand. "Especially because there has been no time for much of anything for me but taking care of the children and work."

"Which is why you're sick."

Regina glared at her playfully, thankful that Emma had taken it well. "Fine. I've been running myself ragged, hoping the days and nights would go by faster so you could come home to a family who was ready for you...in every way."

Emma felt the soft pads of Regina’s fingers begin to drag up and down starting from her ankle, up to her knee, and back down again, a soft rhythm that she felt everywhere, and yet above the surface it was as though nothing had changed. It was an apt metaphor, Emma supposed, for the way their lives had been going as of late.

“Is he having a baby?” She inquired suddenly, and Regina, despite every show of support she had given him, smiled in that pained way she did when her manners outranked her feelings on her personal interaction roster.

“A little boy,” she confirmed, and Emma nodded her acceptance of the information. There was so much she could have asked, but it seemed implicit, somehow. Regina would tell her more if and when she became ready. The brunette’s relationship with Robin was something Emma knew she would never fully understand, and she was beginning to realize that that was okay.

“So…” Emma drawled, a playful glint behind her eye as Regina looked at her expectantly. They had all the time in the world to be serious, she figured. For right now, she simply wanted Regina in a way she’d never been able to have her before. “There's no reason I shouldn't be able to do...this?”

She placed her palm innocently on top of Regina’s knee, observing the way the other woman tried to maintain a controlled exterior. She tentatively slid her fingers ever so slightly upward, curling delicately around the inside of Regina’s thigh, digging in just enough for Regina to squirm, as her mouth dropped open and her legs shifted apart the slightest bit in response to Emma’s touch. “Or this?”

“Emma…” Regina sighed, her head tilting back in pleasure as the blonde’s hands continued to wander below the surface. Her reaction to Emma’s touch had never been so visceral, though they had both lost control at times when they were together; it was always secretive and always rushed. The calm, slow intimacy of the moment spurred Emma on in an undeniable way. And ultimately, it was the look that Regina gave her the moment she retracted her hand, that if-you-stop-touching-me-I’ll-kill-you glare, that propelled Emma towards her in a sudden shift that sloshed water over the curved edge of porcelain.

Simultaneously, Regina moved upwards, chest thrust forward, prepared to meet Emma’s lips in a fierce kiss, when suddenly Emma fell back, wincing with a large splash and a disgruntled oof.

“Can’t move that way,” Emma gritted her teeth around the phrase, breathing shallowly, an apology apparent by her expression as she gripped the sides of the tub to support her upper body.

“That's fine,” Regina assured her soothingly, and with an ease Emma couldn't quite understand, she rearranged her limbs to pull her knees into her chest, the gravitational pull of the water aiding her in adjusting herself so that she could give Emma the room to recover from her mistake. A sudden, playful glint appeared behind her eyes as an idea clearly developed, and just as Emma felt her body begin to calm, everything within her sped up at the sight of the other woman gliding towards her. “Because _I_ can.”

Regina elongated her limbs and stretched across the length of Emma’s body, meeting at each juncture in a way that was so intimate and new, it nearly caused Emma to cry. The mild discomfort she felt with things touching her skin was inconsequential compared with the feeling of Regina adjusting her position so that she sat straddled over her lap, the insides of her thighs pressed up against the outsides of Emma’s, chests together as both breathed heavily, each of them seemingly unsure what the next move should be. Emma had never known Regina to be so...outgoing, but she supposed that there was a different side to most people behind closed doors, within the safe space created by a trusted lover.

Emma gulped. What if this never happens again? What if… She retreated slightly, involuntarily, and Regina immediately noticed, smiling so warmly it made her heart stop. She looked Emma sternly, lovingly in the eyes to implore her to calm her racing mind.

“There’s no rush,” Regina assured her, breathless but confident. She planted a firm, unhurried kiss against the blonde’s lips to punctuate her statement. “We have time now.”

Emma groaned, her forehead dropping forward to meet Regina’s as her hands drifted to rest gently on the brunette’s hips. She relished the way her heart began to race with each new place on her body she got to touch. "Why do I have to be injured right now?"

"I told you you'd need to be ready for my proper welcome home. Perhaps this will encourage you to continue your physical therapy and not slack off?"

Emma shot her a dirty look as Regina quickly pecked her on the cheek, readjusting herself back into a more comfortable, seated position opposite her. Ignoring her reprimand, Emma turned the faucet to allow more warm water into the bath, squeezing the bottle of bubbles into the stream just a little more. "You know, I can't remember the last time I've taken a bubble bath. Let alone one with someone."

It was also nice, she thought to herself, that the first time they were so completely naked and vulnerable together had nothing to do with having sex. Not that she didn't want to (because holy hell, did she want to,) but perhaps it meant that when the time did come for them to take that step, their comfort level would already be leaps and bounds ahead.

Regina suggested blithely, "Well, I'd like to hope you'd forget all those other times after today."

"What times?" Emma replied casually, playing directly into the other woman’s game.

"That's what I thought." Regina grinned victoriously at her and Emma rolled her eyes with mock, amused frustration.

The brunette allowed her eyes to rove over Emma's body, noting all the places of injury and a wave of sympathy crashed over her. "Are you still...is the pain any better?"

Emma looked down to follow her eyes and suddenly felt very on display. "It comes and goes. Sometimes I forget I'm even hurt, and that's usually when I move too fast or twist a certain way and it feels like electricity sending jolts throughout my body."

"You poor thing. I wish I could take away all your pain. Heal you. Fix you."

"I mean," Emma smirked, a flirtatious tone replacing the more serious one she had used previously. She could see Regina going into a dark place of blaming herself again for Emma’s injuries, and she wanted to alleviate that when possible. "There are things you could do to help."

"Are there?"

"Oh, absolutely." She nodded firmly. "It hurts here," Emma raised an eyebrow and pointed to her collarbone and waited for Regina's eyes to connect with hers. "It really hurts."

"Oh, does it?" Emma smiled. Regina had caught on.

"Yes. Ouuuch." She groaned, nodding with her best, sad puppy-dog eyes and pouting face.

Never breaking eye contact, Regina once again moved forward, climbing over top of Emma to settle on her knees in front of the blonde, who instinctually folded her legs in a pretzel to give her more room. "Show me again? If you're in that much pain, I'm sure I can find some way to make it better."

Emma nodded, eyebrows raised innocently. Pointing again to where she was in 'pain'.

Regina lowered herself onto all fours, dropping just slightly so that she could slowly run her tongue along the length of Emma's collarbone. At the loud gasp in response from Emma, she continued her way up to the blonde's neck, humming as her mouth met the skin just under her jaw, her pulse pounding wildly against Regina’s lips. "Is this any better?"

"Ah, uh, yes. But now it hurts somewhere else."

"Whatever will we do, Em-ma?" She purred, punctuating her question with a soft bite to the flesh just under her ear.

"Here." She straightened her back and planted her palms against either side of the tub, pushing down to lift her torso out of the water so that the lower portion of her rib cage was exposed. "It really hurts here." Two could play this game.

Regina pressed a soft, open palm to the spot Emma indicated, gently massaging the flesh with the tips of her fingers, running the butt of her palm along Emma's side up her rib cage, capturing Emma's lips in a slow, enticing kiss. "Mmmm. Is this helping at all?"

Emma pulled away just slightly, brows scrunched in perplexion at the actual relief she felt from her aching, healing ribs. "It actually feels amazing. There's no...ache...like there usually is. Could you keep doing it?"

Regina smiled softly. Teasing aside, she'd finally found a way to actually ease her pain and she would do it until her fingers cramped and she could no longer move her hand if it meant giving Emma some reprieve from the pain. "For as long as you need me to."

"The stretches help, but I haven't really had anyone to just rub where it hurts. This is incredible. Please, don't stop."

Regina nodded, bringing herself back into a kneeling position. She rubbed every inch of Emma's exhausted body, paying special attention to her broken limbs. Some of the worst pain, she'd read, comes from broken ribs because they must heal on their own in agonizingly slow fashion. It broke her heart to think about it.

Emma leaned back, resting against the curve of the tub, the cool porcelain giving her reprieve from the warmth of the room and from the heat of their skin coming into contact with one another for what truly was the first time.

She continued to massage Emma's worn body and almost within a few minutes, she heard gentle snores and chuckled softly to herself. She'd relaxed the blonde into slumber. She must really have needed it. Regina settled back opposite of Emma's long body, leaning back against her own side, basking in the beauty of the moment. There they relaxed, together, naked, and they weren't sneaking around. They didn't have to rush or pull away from one another in fear of being caught. They were finally together. And it made Regina’s heart soar.

After around fifteen minutes of Emma's snoring, Regina began to feel the sinus pressure mounting once again, and she knew it was time for more medication. She'd slept for most of the morning before Emma had even arrived, and then they napped into the early afternoon. It was definitely time. Usually she kept up with a strict schedule, making sure that nobody could use her being sick as a weakness.

She shifted slightly, hoping that she could slide out of the water without waking Emma, but as she began to lift her body, she was overcome with one of the loudest sneezes she had ever felt, knocking her off balance. Emma immediately shot up, startled and scared.

"I am so sorry, dear. I was trying to be discreet."

Emma’s forehead wrinkled in sleepy confusion. "You were trying to leave?"

"I'm starting to feel ill again. I think it's time to take some more medicine. I didn't mean to wake you."

Emma stretched, taking up the entire space they shared, purposely pinning Regina to the side of the tub. She received a hearty splash for the intrusion and Emma met her playful gaze with wide eyes. "You do not want to play this game."

Regina's eyes flashed, and she splashed her again.

Just as Emma was about to retaliate, her phone began to ring from the floor in the middle of the room, the Addams Family theme song playing as Regina began to laugh heartily. "Your mother, I presume?"

"Shut up, it fits her. She’s creepy and cooky. Wait, what time is it? How long have we been in here?"

They both looked at each other in panic. "The kids!"

Emma leaned over the edge of the tub, reaching for her pants and snagged the leg just barely with her fingertips. She pressed the green button as quickly as she could, plopping back down into the water to Regina's amused smirk.

"Mom, hey! Hi. What's up?"

"I just arrived home with your children," she teased, giggling a little to herself at what she thought was a joke. "I got Regina's email, I hope she's feeling better. Speaking of which, where are you?"

"I...uh…" She looked to Regina with wide, panicked eyes, not sure if they were allowed to be caught spending time together. She held a singular finger over her lips to indicate she wanted Regina to stay quiet.

To which, naturally, Regina promptly sent a huge wave of water in her direction, causing Emma to yell at her. "Hey! Watch the phone!"

"Emma, what are you doing around water?"

"Uh...washing dishes?" Regina laughed out loud at Emma's quick thinking as she slowly stood, making sure the blonde saw every inch of her as she stepped out of the tub, sauntering over to grab one of the towels she'd lain out for them and wrapping it around herself.

A few moments of speechlessness passed while Mary Margaret tried to get her attention, to no avail with Emma's eyes glued to Regina's ass; not enough neurons were firing telling her to answer her mother.

"Oh my God, is Regina there? She's right next to you, isn't she? What are you doing...actually, no, don't answer that."

"What? No! Mom, we...uh...ate lunch together, that's all."

"Well, that's odd, because when we stopped by Granny’s for an after-school snack, Ruby mentioned that she had had lunch with you.”

Regina froze, clearly hearing well enough to know what Mary Margaret had said, and crossed her arms over her chest, unable to hold back her surprise as she blurted loudly, “You had lunch with Ruby today?”

Emma blanched, tilting the microphone away from her face to answer quietly, “Uh...yeah, but I--”

“So you are with Regina.” Mary Margaret confirmed from the other end of the line, and Emma huffed, pressing her free palm to her forehead and avoiding Regina’s expectant gaze.

“Uh...I…”

“Well, you've certainly made your way around the block this afternoon,” Regina observed in a bored, unaffected tone that Emma knew belied the way she actually felt.

“Oh, she doesn't sound happy,” Mary Margaret commented sympathetically, and Emma wanted to reach through the phone and smack her.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” she sighed, sending a tiny splash out of the tub in the other woman’s direction that at least elicited a reluctant, yet genuine, smile. Thank god. "So, uh, we talked about going to look at the progress of the construction at the bar. I know Henry was excited about it. Would the three of you want to meet us?"

She thought about it for a brief moment but decided otherwise. "I don't think the chilly air would be good for whatever Regina is coming down with. And the smoke certainly won't help matters either. But I have started dinner so I think the two of you should just meet us here for a nice, family centered supper. I invited Ruby as well since you left her stranded today."

Emma gave Regina a confused look, shrugging as Regina turned to look at her quizzically. "Great? Dinner with all of us sounds...great. We'll meet you in around an hour? I'm debilitated, remember? Might take a while to walk there." But she had been caught, and while they were all well aware that they would be going in Regina’s car, Mary Margaret decided to play along.

"Okay, well, I'll get going with dinner while you two begin crawling to our house and then we can all eat together."

"Yeah, sure. See you then."

Emma hung up the phone just in time for Regina to throw her own towel at her face. "Hey! What was that for?"

“How dare you make your first venture outside of your parents’ home anywhere other than here?” There was a lightheartedness behind her question that assured Emma she wasn't truly in trouble, but she still jumped to her own defense earnestly just in case.

“I sort of, um...needed a ride to get close enough to walk here. To you.” She replied sheepishly, “And she’s the only person I know not...you know, busy working during the day.”

“Oh, you poor, unfortunate soul,” Regina teased, offering a hand to help Emma stand from the now-lukewarm bath water. “How adorably pathetic.”

Emma shrugged, taking her towel from where she had draped it over her shoulders to carefully pat her body dry before wrapping herself within its warmth. “Whatever, it got me here.”

“Yes, well, you can accost the Night Prowler herself for tattling on you to your mother shortly. I assume she’ll be meeting us there as well?”

Emma cringed, watching Regina move about her closet directly across from her as she gathered her clothes from where they were scattered around the bathroom floor to get dressed. “Yeah, she will.”

“Lovely,” Regina sighed, and Emma crossed the space between the two rooms to lean against the closet’s door frame as she watched the brunette dress efficiently in tight black pants and an impossibly soft-looking red sweater that Emma wanted to run her hands over, though that could have been more about the woman wearing it.

“You’re not...mad at me, are you?” Emma cautioned, and Regina looked up briefly from the task of zipping a pair of leather, high-heeled boots over one calf to the knee, following suit on the other leg.

“Why should I be mad at you, dear?” Regina replied curiously, and before Emma could pry further, a loud beep sounded from the phone she still clutched in her left hand. It was, unsurprisingly, a text from her mother " _Your father is on his way home from work. The kids are getting restless. You'd better not be fooling around!"_

“Ugh,” Emma groaned, rolling her eyes and then shifting her clothes, still bundled haphazardly in her arms, to be able to turn her phone outwards to show Regina the text. So much for giving us an hour. “My mother.”

Regina chuckled, reading the message quickly before shrugging in response. “What about her?”

“She's nosey! Always asking what you text me, always listening when I get a phone call. Always suggesting we're up to no good. There's some stuff you just don't want your mom to know!"

"Like what?"

"Oh. You know," she drawled, whispering the rest of her response. "Sex stuff."

"I don't recall us ever having sex, so I'm not sure what you mean."

"Hey!” Emma protested indignantly, following Regina as she moved past Emma to saunter back into the bedroom with a smirk. “There was that time you fell asleep at the hotel. The almost time on my balcony. And the almost time in Leila's bedroom." She cringed at that one, shrugging apologetically under Regina's incredulous look. "Come on, give me some credit. We've done stuff."

"Oh yes,” Regina laughed, patting the blonde’s forearm gently to placate her. “I've quite enjoyed the _stuff_ we've done together, Emma."

Emma gasped, depositing her things onto the bed and clutching her towel more closely. As Regina sat regally in front of her vanity, gazing into the eyes of her own reflection as she fastened the backs onto a pair of delicate, classic diamond earrings, Emma tilted her head to the side curiously. “Are you making fun of me?”

"Absolutely.” Regina confirmed with an amused smirk, returning her attention to her reflection to release her hair from the clasp holding it at the crown of her head. It bounced down around her shoulders, shiny and luxurious as ever, and Emma had the brief, fleeting thought that some part of her sort of hated Regina for looking so damn flawless all the time, even without an ounce of makeup on her face and a raging sinus infection.

“Although,” Regina continued suggestively, turning her body around on the small, cushioned seat and crossing her legs at the ankles, regarding Emma with that aristocratic air that the blonde found irritating and arousing in equal measure. “I should warn you, I can become quite impatient where certain 'stuff’ is concerned and if you don't heal quickly, I may have to...take matters into my own hands."

Emma startled, taken aback by Regina's forwardness. "What does that mean?"

"I'll leave that up to your imagination." With a bored sigh, Regina shrugged, carefully rising to her feet and breezing across the room right past Emma and towards the door. “Don't take too long getting dressed, dear. Your mother is waiting.”

"No, wait!” Emma pleaded, catching the brunette’s arm softly within her grasp as she passed, a plethora of delicious, tantalizing images fighting for attention at the forefront of her mind at Regina’s suggestion. “Tell me what that means?"

Regina paused. "We have an hour?”

Emma nodded fervently, and Regina turned her attention fully to Emma. With a lascivious grin, she walked slowly towards her in that predatory way she did, prompting the blonde to follow slowly backwards until her back collided gently with the wall. Regina stepped into her space as closely as she could, their eyes never straying from one another as she brushed her lips across Emma’s own, yet didn't quite kiss her.

“I think, perhaps,” Regina mused, grinning against Emma’s parted lips while hooking her index finger into the fold of the towel across her chest, “that still gives us plenty of time to continue enjoying each other's,” She pulled her finger down harshly, dropping the towel to the floor. “...company."

"Oh god," Emma responded quickly, her body warming up even against its exposure to the cool air of the bedroom, humming in pleasure at the feeling of the brunette trailing soft kisses from the corner of her mouth towards her neck. "Plenty."

 

\--------

 

After two encore performances from Emma's ringtone signaling that Mary Margaret was purposely repeat dialing them to interrupt, Regina extracted herself from one of the various entanglements Emma had captured them in. "Your mother is," she paused, hissing as Emma gently bit down on the skin just to the left of her navel. "Relentless." Regina's head fell back onto the wall with a distinct thud.

"Yeah, she has that effect on people." Emma responded from somewhere below her waist.

"Should we…"

"What," the blonde mumbled against the skin of Regina's hip. "Stop?"

"I was going to suggest we silence the damn phone."

"It does tend to interrupt at the most inconvenient times."

_They're creepy and they're cooky, mysterious and spooky, they're altogether ooky..._

"I swear to god, Emma. If you don't turn off that phone I will answer it and explain to your mother exactly what you're doing between my thighs right now."

“I haven't even done anything!” Emma protested. She had simply unbuttoned Regina’s pants, unzipping them in order to pull them down just slightly over her hips. As if to prove her point, she pressed a chaste kiss above the tempting line of lace beneath the zipper. Because, who wouldn't?

“Your mother doesn't know that.”

It rang again, and Regina snatched it from the nightstand just to the right of where Emma had flipped them, effectively pinning Regina against the wall instead. She held her finger over the green button to accept the call, eyes flashing dangerously as they met Emma’s.

"Go ahead,” Emma challenged. "You two could use some girl-on-girl bonding time anyway."

"Do you know how I bond with women, Emma?"

Emma thought about that, her face screwing up in disgust at the thought of her mother “bonding” with Regina. “Gross. Now I wish I hadn't said ‘girl-on-girl.’"

She wrestled the phone from Regina's grasp, quickly composing a message to her mother that simply read, "I fell asleep on the couch. I twisted wrong coming down the stairs and Regina didn't want to wake me or move me. On our way." hoping it'd buy them a few moments more and the calls would cease.

“Unfortunately, I think the mood has been effectively ruined.” Regina sighed, reaching down to zip and button her pants once more, much to Emma’s dismay.

“Hey! I wasn't done with those,” she complained, but she still took Regina’s outstretched hand, allowing the woman to aid her back into a standing position.

“We really need to leave,” Regina sighed, making her way back to her vanity to check how disheveled Emma had helped her become. She pursed her lips, deciding after all to apply one of her more neutral shades of lipstick. The flush left behind by Emma’s...attention certainly put life back into her appearance, but it wouldn't hurt to give herself the extra help. "Since, for some reason, your subject-changing database invited us all to look at a burnt bar room with your mother and ex-girlfriend."

"Roommate,” Emma clarified without thinking, though she regretted the instantaneous reaction at the murderous look Regina gave her in response through the mirror. “I made this plan with Henry yesterday anyway, so I was just thinking on my feet. You certainly weren't helping matters. It's not like it'll be all bad,” she reasoned, reluctantly turning away and beginning to put her clothes back onto her body. “Now it's just dinner with my parents. And Henry and Leila will be there. We like them.”

“You'll like them a lot less once you're here with us all the time,” Regina commented absentmindedly, not noticing the way Emma became very still as she tugged a boot onto her foot. "They're very loud, needy little people with way too many opinions."

"Who live here now, with you." There was the tiniest hint of jealousy behind her tone, though Emma dared not address it. They were all living out the repercussions of her decisions, so who was she to feel something about it?

"Well, I just assumed you'd want to start spending more time here instead of holding up in your parents’ spare bedroom playing Henry's reject videos games."

"If my mother will ever allow me to escape that purgatory. Since you're now keeping her daughter from meeting her as promised."

"Which one of us was completely dressed and walking out the door an hour ago?"

“Which one of us pushed the other against the wall?”

“Emma.” Regina declared firmly, spinning around and crossing her arms over her chest decisively. “I'm not interested in an argument.”

“Because you're losing,” Emma teased, pushing herself heavily off of the bed and moving to circle her arms around Regina’s waist for a loose, apologetic hug. It was clear that, despite Emma’s best efforts to distract her, the mayor was on edge about this meeting. “Come on. I'll make it worth your while.”

“I very much doubt that,” Regina replied haughtily, but she smiled as she wound her arms around Emma’s neck, accepting the hug warmly. “But you're more than welcome to try.”

She gently extracted herself from the embrace, extending her hand for Emma to hold, and led them out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and to the foyer. She bundled up in a long, sleek trench coat, tied an intricately designed scarf expertly around her neck, and rolled her eyes at Emma’s refusal to borrow anything of the sort. She glanced into the mirror beside the door once more, nodding her approval at her reflection before gesturing towards the door for Emma to exit before her.

 

\--------

 

Leila Mills was very rapidly running out of patience. When Mary Margaret had suggested stopping by Granny’s for an after school snack, she had simply ordered a hot cup of coffee, a decision she was coming to regret wholeheartedly as time continued to pass without either one of her mothers showing up.

“They're the worst,” she whined, watching Henry as he intently played the latest game he was enjoying, sprawled comfortably across the couch in front of where she sat on the floor with textbooks and notebooks alike littering the space between them. “What could possibly be taking so long? We’ll never have dinner at this rate.”

“Well, your mother is a very busy woman,” Mary Margaret suggested politely, bending down to peek into the oven at the whole chicken she was roasting, an assortment of winter vegetables becoming tender at the bottom of the pan. “Maybe she had something to take care of on the way over here.”

“Nope.” Leila argued definitively, shaking her head from side to side in a way that made her curls bounce against her shoulders. “She just sucks.”

“Don't say sucks,” Henry reminded her distractedly, half-listening while maintaining his focus on the handheld game, the least worried of any of them about his mom’s tardiness. Emma had said she would be there, and so she would.

“Ugh, finally!” Leila cheered as she heard the jingle of keys against the knob of the front door from the outside. She stretched her legs out from where they resided, folded beneath her, and rested her head heavily against the cushion of the chair behind her. There would be time to finish her homework later, she decided. She watched as Emma stumbled through the door first, Regina following closely behind, their cheeks flushed and hair mussed from the touch of the evening breeze. They looked so happy, she thought, and Henry’s joyous cry of “Mom” paired with that infectious grin of his made one blossom across her own features.

“Come here, kid,” Emma coaxed, grinning excitedly back at him as he stashed the gaming device hastily in the cushion of the couch and immediately jumped up to hug her as tightly around the middle as he possibly could without hurting her.

Emma’s heart soared at the feeling of his little embrace, her throat burning with unshed tears pricking the corners of her eyes as it did each time she saw him these days. She thought, not for the first time, how stupid she was for allowing her son to be anywhere other than where she was. But that was selfish, she reprimanded herself internally, because she knew that he was happy staying with Regina, and with Leila. She heard Regina’s voice float across the back of her mind suddenly then, “once you're here with us full time.” She gulped, squeezing him tightly in the hug he still held, way longer than usual for him, so she relished every moment of the embrace.

Had Regina been suggesting Emma move in with her? It had certainly sounded that way, by the matter-of-fact tone of voice in which she’d said it, but it could have merely been a slip of the tongue. She couldn't think too much into it, she decided. At least not for the moment. It was way too soon, and they were nowhere near ready.

“You have a good day at school?” Emma rested her hands gently on his shoulders as he pulled away from her, head tilted back to look up at her face.

"I got a 96 on my spelling test!" He exclaimed. "Regina taught me a good trick for remembering their definitions so now my tests are easy." At Emma's outstretched fist he gave hers a bump and giggled softly, turning to peer around Emma at Regina. “Hey, Regina. Are you feeling any better?"

“Hello, Henry.” She smiled, cupping his chin affectionately before diverting her attention to Leila, who was still watching with interest from the floor. "I am, thank you. I'm so proud of your spelling test! Great job!" She winked at him as he smiled widely at her, running to get back to playing his game. She turned, cocking her head to the side with an expectant look at Leila's annoyed huff.

“Took you long enough,” she grumbled, tugging at the hem of her skirt, still unchanged from school. She stood to greet them, followed closely by Mary Margaret. “I'm starving.”

“Oh, Leila, honey. No, you're not,” Regina admonished, rolling her eyes as she allowed David to slide her coat from her shoulders to hang it up, giving him a genuine smile and a soft press of her palm to his arm in gratitude. If there was one Swan family member Regina could tolerate, it was certainly Emma's father.

“Emma, where's your coat?” Mary Margaret inquired pointedly, much to Regina’s amusement, noticing for the first time that while Regina unwound her scarf and draped it over the shoulders of her coat before David moved to hang it in the entryway closet, Emma had not needed to remove any layers upon entering their home.

“What an excellent question,” Regina teased, gently bumping Emma with her elbow as she squirmed under all the attention.

“Leave me alone,” the blonde huffed. "What's for dinner?”

“Meat,” Leila whispered, giving Emma a significant, disgruntled look as she plopped back down in front of her homework. "But I am starving."

"Well, I heard Mary Mar--Principal Snow took the two of you to Granny's for an after school snack, so I think you'll survive."

"Hey, all I got was coffee!" Leila pouted, clearly in a mood, but still just bantering playfully with Regina because it was fun and Regina played back. "You know, I think I miss the old Regina who spoiled me rotten and let me get away with murder."

"Yes, but I distinctly remember you disliking that version of me, so now this is the one you're stuck with."

"Yeah, yeah.” Leila rolled her eyes, clicking the end of her pen harshly as she brought the tip back to hover over a notebook. “You're just the best mom ever.” _Click_. “Happy?"

Regina sighed. "Ecstatic."

“I thought she was the worst?” Mary Margaret mused playfully, grinning to herself at Emma’s indignant gasp on Regina’s behalf.

“She’s inconsistent.” Leila conceded, looking up to send her mother a reluctant, slightly apologetic glance, which Regina met with amused reproach before leaving Emma’s side; she was never one to hover awkwardly, and even though she was nowhere near comfortable in the unfamiliar home, she strode in Leila’s direction, taking a seat primly in the chair against which the girl leaned.

“Thanks for bringing them home from school,” Emma, obviously missing the playfulness of the exchange between the Mills women, decided to directly involve her mother, blatantly changing the subject to try to prevent a disaster. She moved over to the couch, gently patting Henry’s sprawled legs, a silent request for him to move over and give her room to sit with him.

“It was no trouble,” Mary Margaret replied, obviously excited to be paid any attention, but politely waiting her turn as she watched the new little family's interactions. “It's been so nice to spend time with Henry. It almost makes up for the fact that you're two hours late.”

As she turned back towards the stove with a snicker, David right by her side slicing vegetables for salad, Regina quickly met Emma's eyes with exasperation in that how-dare-you-get-us-into-this-situation-with-your-crazy-mother-yet-again murderous glare. That dig was getting old fast.

Regina piped up, hoping to ease some of the tension. "Yes, he has adjusted quite well. And has taken a liking to cooking supper with me, haven't you Henry?"

Henry looked up awkwardly from his game to Regina, clearly not wanting to get involved in the feud that even he was aware of, but disinterested in. "Yeah, she's a really good cook. She teaches me a lot and let's me do things instead of just making me keep her company."

Mary Margaret’s face fell the slightest bit, her wooden spoon stalling mid-stir in a bowl of mashed potatoes, and Emma cringed.

“Dinner smells amazing, Mom,” Emma called loudly, tilting her head back over her shoulder to give her an encouraging smile. The moment passed and Mary Margaret beamed in response, whirling around with a pleased sigh to check on the chicken once more. David and Emma shared wide, relieved eyes, the tense moment going unnoticed by everyone else.

“Well, it's almost ready!” Mary Margaret chirped, confidently shoving her hands into cloth pot-holders and delving deep into the oven to remove the cast-iron roasting pan. She eased it onto the kitchen island floating between the living room, where her various dinner guests waited patiently, and the rest of the open-concept kitchen. “Emma, dear, will you set the table please? This just needs to rest for a few minutes.”

“We’ll do that,” Leila offered immediately, gesturing between herself and Henry. “Just show me where everything is?”

“Okay,” Henry shrugged, depositing his gaming system into Emma’s lap gently and hopping up from the couch to lead Leila into the dining room. Regina shared a private, proud smile with Emma at their display of good manners. There wasn't a huge amount of floor space between the chair and couch upon which they each sat, respectively, the majority of it occupied by Leila’s abandoned schoolwork. Regina found herself desperate to relocate and sit as near to Emma as possible, but the thought of giving Mary Margaret any more ammunition helped her to refrain.

“Would you like a glass of wine, Regina?” David offered politely; each of his hands hovered over a bottle as he looked up at her expectantly.

She smiled a thin-lipped smile, nodding once to express her gratitude. “I would love one.”

“Red or white?” He continued, fumbling around the drawer directly beneath him to find a bottle opener. Regina narrowed her eyes, peeking as well as she could over the top of the island at what all was being served for dinner: roast chicken, root vegetables, mashed potatoes, and salad. She contemplated a moment more to choose the best compliment for her meal.

“White, please,” she decided, and he hummed an appreciative agreement, swiftly opening the chilled bottle and pouring two full-sized glasses. He gripped one carefully in each hand, walking around the back of the couch to deliver one to Regina and then the other to Emma.

“Hey, what if I wanted red? Emma complained, but she was effectively sidetracked by watching the muscles of Regina’s neck work ever so subtly as she swallowed her first sip. Is everything she does automatically sexy?

Regina caught her eye and Emma flushed, shaking her head and turning in her seat once more to give her father the stink eye.

“Did you?” He questioned knowingly.

Emma hesitated, not wanting to lose the argument, but knowing he was right. “Well...no. But you asked Regina.”

“I didn't raise Regina,” he reminded her simply, to which Emma raised her glass in a defeated form of a silent toast. If anything, she was grateful that her parents weren't treating this like Emma bringing a date home. It was just Emma, and also Regina. It was a relief.

“We’re ready,” Henry popped his head back into the living room, and Mary Margaret let out a small cheer, gathering the first dishes into her arms to make the transition.

“Great!” Emma sighed, carefully rising from the couch with her glass of wine in hand. “I’m starving.”

“Me too!” Leila called back loudly from the other room, prompting an irritated exhale from Regina.

“You'd think I never feed her,” she whispered conspiratorially to Emma as the blonde led the way to the table, the fingers of her free hand tangling subtly with Regina’s as they walked. “But my grocery bill has practically quadrupled in the last six months.”

“How?” Emma cried, aghast. “She eats like...chocolate and carbs, and that's it.”

“Well, she must take after you,” Mary Margaret commented neutrally as she sat in her favorite seat at the head of the table, taking a large gulp of her wine as she did so. “You always ate us out of house and home when you were her age.”

Emma couldn’t help but allow a small smile to escape at her mother’s casual comment, as though it were only natural that Leila would exhibit one of Emma’s inherent traits. As though she were her parent in more than the eyes of the law.

As though she was Leila’s mother too.

“Can we maybe not talk shit about me as though I'm not in the room?” Leila suggested sarcastically, scooping a double serving of potatoes onto her plate in lieu of the piece of chicken David had carved and offered to her, which she quietly, politely declined.

“Don’t say ‘shit,’” both Emma and Henry reminded her as they, too, loaded their plates full of the various, steaming offerings from the middle of the table.

Regina sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger as her eyes closed in frustration. “You're all hopeless.”

All things considered, dinner was a relatively quiet affair; the conversation flowed easily, jokes were shared and enjoyed, and the most notable thing about the entire event was how much it felt like a real family. Emma excused herself to her bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes, and as Regina stood to begin clearing the table, David placed a hand gently on hers to dissuade her from cleaning up as a guest. "No, I've got this, Regina."

She smiled at him, shaking her head softly. "Please let me help, everything was wonderful. I'd like to contribute."

Nodding in understanding, he allowed her to gather a few plates and follow him into the kitchen. He plucked a full body apron from a hook by the refrigerator and draped it around her neck as she put on gloves to begin washing dishes. He gently placed his hand on the middle of her back as he shuffled to her other side, reaching for the drying towel. "You wash, I'll dry?"

"Sure." She turned the faucet, setting the water to a comfortable temperature, and began to delicately scrub the various dishes clean, taking note of the ones that Mary Margaret continued to place to her left as she finished clearing the table.

"So, I hear from my daughter that you're quite the chess aficionado."

She blushed slightly at the compliment, from both of them, and chuckled. "I've been known to enjoy a game or two from time to time. Do you play?"

"Who do you think taught Emma?" He joked, elbowing her slightly. "Would you like to have a go of it when we finish up here?"

“I'm not sure you're ready for that,” she warned playfully, and some part of her was taken aback by the easy camaraderie that she felt with him. “My father taught me how to play, too.”

“Ah,” he smiled congenially, accepting each plate she handed over to him and drying them thoroughly. “Well, I accept the challenge.”

 

\--------

 

Several minutes later, Regina found herself comfortably seated on a cushioned window seat, a little place tucked away in a corner near the stairs that she knew, had she been Emma growing up, would have been her favorite. David lounged casually seated opposite her, an elaborate chess set spread between them. As he contemplated his next move, his eyes roving seriously about the board, Leila plopped down behind Regina, leaning over her shoulder to assess the situation.

“Move that one,” she suggested helpfully, pointing to one of the black pieces on his side of the board. He nodded, tapping a finger over his lips as he pondered it. Ultimately, he took her advice, advancing in such a way that obliterated the next move Regina had intended to make.

Regina glanced at Leila over her shoulder, fixing her with a betrayed scowl as her hand hovered awkwardly over her white pieces, now unsure of her actions. “Why are you helping Mr. Swan?”

Leila shrugged, taking a loud sip of the juice pouch she held in her hand, eyes wide and innocent. “It was David’s turn.”

“Then go sit by him,” Regina ordered playfully, yet regretted her decision when Leila actually did it, leaving her feeling oddly alone all of a sudden. “Did he give you permission to call him that?”

“I did,” he smiled, acknowledging her concern with understanding. “Mr. Swan makes me feel old.”

“You're not old,” Leila assured him, patting him on the shoulder robotically as she observed Regina’s fingers moving from piece to piece. She shook her head as Regina settled on the white knight. “No, not her.”

“Her?” Regina repeated, bemused, just in time for Henry to come around the corner to join them.

“The White Knight is obviously a woman, Regina,” Leila countered seriously, and Henry’s face lit up at the sly wink she sent in his direction.

“Would you like to play?” Regina snarked, removing her hand from the playing piece and gesturing grandly towards the board. “By all means.”

Leila quirked one eyebrow in challenge to her mother’s bluff, taking a quick stock of each side of the board. After a few short moments, she grinned triumphantly, seeing a new angle, and made a move so efficient that she shortened the game by several moves. “Check.”

Regina’s mouth dropped open, retracing her steps mentally in disbelief. “How did you do that?”

Leila, again, shrugged, nonplussed. “Emma taught me.”

“Naturally,” Regina rolled her eyes, a rueful chuckle bubbling up out of her. “That means she’s been hustling me for months.”

“I'm afraid so,” Leila confirmed sadly, but a happy twinkle shined behind her eyes at the secret smile that passed between them. “Speaking of which, where is she?”

“Still in her room? That's odd, isn't it?” David queried, a look of concern etching lines across his forehead.

“I'll find her,” Leila promised, and at that, she left the other three to checkmate and begin a new game, heart full at the feeling of all of them simply being together.

 

\--------

 

After dinner, Emma used the first opportunity to excuse herself to change her clothes. It had truthfully been the longest she'd spent dressed since the hospital, and considering her earlier state of undress, that said something. She ached to be comfortable and relax a little. She'd been worried with every interaction that someone would get themselves into trouble at dinner, but thankfully things ran smoothly.

Who knew bringing your significant other home to “meet the parents” would be so stressful? Regina, of course, took it all in stride. Cozying up to her father, joking with her mother, the kids playing and doing their homework together. It all felt very homey. And while she was grateful for that, for the ease of everyone getting along, part of her felt slightly out of place. Like the ignored middle child. Which was ludicrous, of course, but she nonetheless felt somewhat lonely without anyone specifically doting on her.

_That's ridiculous, Swan. I've been hurt way too long. Can't get used to all the fuss over me._

As she struggled with her pants once again, her phone began to vibrate on the bed, Ruby's drunken face popping up on the screen. She'd briefly wondered where she'd been; her mother had said she'd been invited, but while her curiosity was piqued, she was glad Ruby had skipped and Regina had been able to relax and actually enjoy herself.

“Hello?”

“Oh, now you have time for me?” The slight slur to her speech told Emma that Ruby had already had her Monday-night-off cocktail, and she smiled at the predictability of it all. For a woman so keen on spontaneity, Emma sure could anticipate her every move.

“I'm sorry, was I by myself at Granny’s today during lunch?” She mused sarcastically, holding her phone against her ear as she leaned back on the bed to cautiously tug the loose sweatpants the rest of the way up to her hips.

“Oh, please,” Ruby argued, and Emma heard a faint clack in the background. “You needed a ride. Let's call a spade a spade here. Today wasn't about me or us.”

Emma startled; it was the way Ruby said “us” that threw her for a loop. There was the barest hint of a softened edge at the back of the word, a sound Emma hadn't heard from her in years. “Us?”

“You know,” she huffed, any indication of another meaning disappearing from her tone. “Friends. Roommates. Gal pals? Whatever.”

“Mhm,” Emma encouraged, knowing that the more she let Ruby talk, the more information she would eventually garner from her.

“So your mom invited me to dinner, but since you bailed on seeing me at 4:30,” she drawled, pausing to presumably down a large gulp of her drink, “You must have found...other people to hang out with.”

“Ruby--”

“So I found other people to hang out with. Tink and I decided to go and shoot pool. Without you.”

It stung in a way Emma couldn't have anticipated it might. “Tink’s in town?”

“Yep,” Ruby confirmed, and the clack sounded again as someone undoubtedly broke a cluster of balls nearby. “But say hello to Regina for me, will you?”

“Hey, what's that about?” Emma retorted, putting the sound to speakerphone so she could more easily change into the sports bra and loose, worn long-sleeved marathon tee she had chosen.

“You've never chosen a girlfriend over your friends before.” Ruby declared decisively, and Emma felt resentment bubble up in her chest, splicing and multiplying in a way she couldn't control.

“The last girlfriend I chose over my friends was you,” she fired back, an eruption of emotion she had repressed since college overcoming her with the admission. “And Regina’s not my girlfriend.”

“Bullshit,” the other woman scoffed, and Emma knew they were about to have the first true fight they'd had in years.

“Are you jealous?” Emma burst out incredulously, and there was a pregnant pause before Ruby answered.

“Hell no,” she breathed, and though she was fuming, Emma reminded herself to call Tink, find out how much Ruby had had to drink, and what exactly had been her poison of choice for the evening. Because, if it was as Emma suspected and she had been throwing back whiskey, Emma would have a more difficult time staying angry. Ruby was an abominable asshole on too much whiskey.

“Look,” Emma began calmly, “I've been on bed rest for a really fucking long time, and I'm not apologizing for who I choose to see and for how long. We should just talk about this later.”

“Fine,” Ruby agreed, the sounds around her fading away as Emma assumed she had stepped outside to conclude their call. Wherever they were, she realized, had to have been outside of Storybrooke. Ruby would never spend her night off shooting pool at Granny’s, so without the Rabbit Hole, they would have nowhere else to go. “Regina’s really not your girlfriend?”

“No.” Emma stated firmly, a wave of emotion pulsing through her as she thought of what all Regina meant to her. “She’s a hell of a lot more than that.”

She hung up abruptly, tossing the phone to its original place in the middle of her bed. She blew out a frustrated puff of air, bringing her hands up to rest against her hips as she surveyed the room, looking for the most viable option for socks to wear. A tentative knock sounded on the door, and she called out an irritated, “Come in!”

The door swung open gently, and Leila appeared, arms wrapped around her middle with a cautious look on her face, which Emma noted was one she hadn’t seen her wear very often. "Hey."

"Oh, hey kid." Emma sighed, more than a little relieved that it hadn’t been her mother at the door.

"What are you doing hiding out alone in your room?" Leila inquired curiously, gingerly sitting on the wooden desk chair as she waited patiently for Emma’s answer.

"I...don't know. Thinking? Giving myself some space from everyone?"

"From us? Why?"

Her brain blurted the first thing that came to mind. She certainly hadn't planned on discussing the break-up with a teenager, but she figured Leila was practically an adult and she might have some insight from being Regina's kid. "Did your mom tell you she ended things with Robin?"

"Not really, no.” She shrugged, fidgeting absentmindedly with the hem of her skirt. “But I was lying in her bed right before he came home that night. And I uh...listened from the other side of the door."

"Will you...no...I shouldn't ask you what they talked about." Emma admonished herself, taking a step backwards to slump onto the bed, drawing her legs beneath her carefully in a criss-crossed pattern. They sat facing one another now, which Emma knew would be easier for the involved conversation she expected.

However, Leila simply shrugged, waving her hand as if it was no big deal and Emma was being dramatic. "Mostly you. How much she loves you. How almost losing us put things into perspective for her. Just regular stuff. It wasn't ugly or mean or anything.”

"Oh." Emma still wasn't sure how she felt about all of it. How could Regina have gone so long without telling her?

"What's the big deal?” Leila laughed, kicking her feet back and forth across the creaky, wooden floor. “ I thought you'd be jumping for joy by now? She's single and ready to mingle."

"It's just a lot to process." Emma explained feebly.

"Oh please, I know you were at my house all day and that's why you both were so late. I'm not stupid."

"She was sick. I was taking care of her. That's it. We didn't even really get to talk."

"About the break-up? What's there to talk about?"

"She kept it from me for a month!” Emma argued defensively, but she was feeling increasingly more like she was somehow in the wrong. “There's so much more time where we could have…"

"Dated?” Leila snorted. “Come on, Emma. You two have been 'dating' for six months. Everyone, including Henry, knows that. And you've essentially been on bed rest while your mommy waited on you hand and foot. There's nothing about that that says, I'm free to casually date, welcome me with open arms! She probably didn't want to add any pressure onto your recovery."

"Regardless.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest firmly, her tone resolute. “She should have told me."

"Maybe. Maybe not,” Leila disputed fairly, “But she didn't. And that's kinda her choice. She was with Robin for ten years. You don't think it would take some kind of adjustment period after that kind of a life change?”

“Well...yeah. But--”

"Or maybe she just needed some time to herself. To...I don't know. Be sad or to be alone for a little while before jumping into being married to you right away. She might love you, but she’s still allowed to be sad it's over with Robin.”

Emma nodded, mulling over all new the points of view she had rolling around her head. She had mostly thought about it all in the sense that, if what Regina had wanted all along was to be with Emma, then why wasn't it her first move? But that was selfish, and Leila had made her see her error.

The girl continued, catching Emma’s eye with a wry smirk. "Don't be dumb about this, be happy."

“I am happy.” Emma iterated strongly, and it was true.

“I know.” Leila smiled. “And Regina knows. So maybe stop thinking so much about when she decided to take that step and just be glad she did?”

“I guess you're right,” Emma sighed, reaching out across the space between them with just her pointer finger. Leila giggled and met it with her own, pressing the tip of it to Emma’s firmly. It was their little gesture, a hug without actually having to hug. “How did you get to be so smart?”

“Genetics, apparently,” Leila mused, pushing up from the chair with her hands on its arms, rocking a little in place with the momentum of her action. "Now, would you please stop moping and come out there with us? I just kicked Regina’s ass in chess and she's probably finished licking her wounds by now."

Emma perked up, eyes glinting with pride. "Did you use the moves I taught you?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Good work, kid. And thanks."

"For what? I should be thanking you."

"What for?"

"The whole burning building thing.” She looked down, curls tumbling in front of her face to hide it away. “Potentially saving my life and all that."

"Couldn't let my partner in crime die, you know.” Emma replied earnestly. “Who else would poke fun at your mom and drive her crazy with me?"

"Good point. Speaking of which, she figured out you've been hustling her this whole time at chess, so good luck finding your way out of that mine field."

"Gee, thanks."

"Hey, Emma?" Leila stopped at the doorway, turning to look at the still somewhat defeated look on Emma's face.

"Yeah, kid?"

"If this is really bothering you, I think you should talk to her. She'd want you to be honest with her. And she never stays mad, I know that from experience. Just...talk. You'll feel better."

"I think I might.” Emma agreed, standing to leave the room along with her. “Maybe you're right though, and I should give her some space about the whole thing. Feel things out." She nodded once more as if to convince herself as she looked Leila over. "Hey, do you want some clothes to change into?” Emma asked suddenly, noticing the rumpled school uniform still on her body and remembering acutely how miserable it was to wear any longer than necessary. “The Valley Girl look is great on you, but you must be freezing."

Leila fidgeted a bit, trying to determine if she actually was cold. She had long since abandoned the school-crest emblazoned sweater and button-down Oxford shirt, leaving her in only the long-sleeved white thermal undershirt she illegally wore under her uniform. Mary Margaret never dared write her up or give her a detention for it, so she figured she was safe for the time being. With a shrug, she decided she could use some more comfortable clothes. "Do you have any pants?"

Emma smirked. "Sure do." She reached into a simple, wooden dresser to dig through her bottom drawer, only to pull out the most obnoxious, hot pink leggings, and tossed them over to her daughter.

With a disgusted grunt and a dirty look, Leila slipped them on under her skirt and dropped the offending item to the floor, flipping it into her hand with her foot. "Whatever. Pink is totally my color. Come on."

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

After another glass of wine and a chance at a rematch, Regina, while still slightly under the weather, hadn't had so much fun a _long_ time. Their evening was drawing to a natural close, she realized, when Henry’s head began to droop towards his shoulder, hanging heavily as he grew more tired. Emma sat in the center of the couch, one arm tucked gently under Henry’s shoulder to hold him up, her legs drawn up beneath her and to the side towards where Leila occupied the other end of the couch, mindlessly watching the game show network Mary Margaret had playing in the background. Regina took up the squishy chair opposite them, resting her chin in her hand against the arm of the chair as she watched them with a casual, content expression on her face. She would never have guessed she could have such a good time in the Swan residence, but there she was anyway, a little flushed from too much wine and laughter.

Emma, who had been sitting very still to just spend _time_ with both children, was becoming restless as their evening began to calm and slow down. She could hear her mother in the kitchen making two cups of coffee: one for Regina, who everyone would feel a little more comfortable allowing to drive if she took the time to drink some coffee before leaving; and David, who simply enjoyed a hot cup of coffee no matter the time of day or night.

She moved her legs to the floor gingerly, rising so as not to disturb the now _actually_ sleeping boy, and gave Regina’s leg a gentle squeeze as she passed by her and towards the kitchen. The action was met with a low hum from somewhere deep in Regina, and Emma cursed her bad luck not for the first time tonight that when Regina crawled into her soothing, comfortable bed that night, Emma would not be joining her.

“Hey, Mom?” Emma began gently, looking over her shoulder to ensure Regina wasn't paying attention before she lowered her voice to speak to her mother more privately. “I think Henry’s going to stay here with me tonight. Can you take him with you to school in the morning?”

Mary Margaret’s brow furrowed in question as she dropped a spoon with a hearty _clink_ into each of the oversized coffee mugs she had just filled. “Of course I can. Isn't he...he’s not going home with Regina?”

Emma shrugged, glancing over her shoulder at his peacefully sleeping form, a wistful look crossing over her face. She just _missed_ him, a sentiment which she expressed to her mother awkwardly. “I don't want to disturb his routine, or anything, he’s just already asleep, and…”

She trailed off, turning her body in such a way that she could see both Mary Margaret _and_ her family in the living room with equal quality. Mary Margaret smiled in that understanding _,_ knowing _mother_ sort of way that normally annoyed her, but now, she found she could allow it.

“I don't mind,” Mary Margaret shrugged, and Emma smiled gratefully, wordlessly accepting the proffered coffee mug with an inclined head from her mother in Regina’s direction. She immediately brought the beverage over to the brunette woman, who it seemed had become involved in a heated, quiet debate with her daughter in the short span of time Emma had taken to speak with her own mother.

“I'm telling you, it's street,” Leila insisted in a furious whisper, gazing intently at the screen along with Regina.

“It's obviously _seed,”_ the brunette corrected her, gesticulating animatedly towards the screen as they waited for the answer. “Why would it be Sesame _Street?”_

_"_ Why wouldn't it be? _”_ Leila argued incredulously, and Emma simply began watching alongside them, amused, as she deposited the warm mug into Regina’s outstretched hand. She watched as she took that first sip, her mouth going quite dry watching the way her throat moved as the coffee slid down and through her body. Emma blushed suddenly, feeling utterly ridiculous. _Are you really getting turned on by her drinking_ _coffee_ _, Swan?_

The host of the show revealed the next word, and Leila cheered as victoriously as she could, while attempting to maintain some semblance of quiet. She snuck a worried glance at Henry stretched out alongside her, but he slept on, oblivious.

“Leila,” Regina began in that commanding tone of hers, draining the rest of the liquid in a few gulps, a move that surprised Emma to the point of an actual, facial reaction; however, she supposed, Regina did like all things in life to be very _hot._ Her coffee, her tea, her bath water--

\-- _her kisses_ , a more salacious voice in Emma’s mind finished for her, and it was at this unfortunate moment that Regina licked her lower lip in that absent way she did when she happened to glance at Emma. And it was _really_ nice.

Until, that is, she returned her attention to the kid to finish her sentence. “We’d better be heading home. Please get your things together and say goodbye to everyone.”

At her immediate acquiescence, dashing around the corner and up the stairs for the rest of her uniform, Regina smiled, tilting her head to the side inquisitively as she caught Emma staring at her. “What is it, love?”

Emma cast a quick, furtive glance around to ensure that Henry was still sound asleep, and her mother had truly evacuated the room to bring coffee to her father in his home office. She grinned, leaning forward to capture Regina’s lips in a full, stolen kiss. The brunette startled happily, her eyes immediately fluttering closed as she smiled against Emma’s mouth, her free palm coming up to press gently into Emma’s chest to stay grounded.

"I don't want to be without you tonight." Emma mumbled, one hand resting on the other woman’s hip.

"I know, but we have to go.” Regina sighed, pulling away slightly to look into her eyes regretfully. Now that they had been so close, with no indication of when, exactly, they’d be able to become _closer,_ Regina found herself unwilling to let go. “And you have to stay."

"I just need some time with Henry, you know?” Emma justified, and they both turned with a smile to look at him as he slept peacefully not far away. “I love that he's been with you, but I _miss_ him. Please don't be upset with me."

"I will never be upset when you make a parenting decision, Emma.” Regina insisted, a confused expression crossing her features. “He’s your son. Keep him with you for as long as you'd like.” She softly dragged her fingers down from where they rested against Emma’s chest, down the front of her body to toy with the drawstring of her sweatpants. “I'll take Leila. Why don’t you two come over for dinner Friday night? I have something special planned."

"I would _love_ that." She smirked, and allowed the next question to fall from her lips without a care about how moony and adoring she sounded. "Will you think of me tonight? As you're falling asleep?"

"I'll think of nothing else.” Regina confirmed, equally amorous, a wicked smile spreading over her mouth. “Except, perhaps…" She leaned in close to her ear, whispering something tastefully sinful, and Emma immediately gasped, eyes wide as a blush colored her cheeks as a ghost of the brunette's lips on her skin sent jolts of electricity throughout her body.

And just in that moment, Mary Margaret rounded the corner, eyeing them skeptically. Regina pulled away just slightly, but didn’t completely extract herself, either. She wanted to _show_ the woman she wasn't afraid to be close to Emma in front of her; they were grown adults, after all, and she thought that perhaps sometimes, Mary Margaret needed a reminder that they were no longer the high school students sitting in the front row of her history class. Regina smiled warmly. "Thank you so much for dinner, and for inviting us. It was an absolutely lovely evening."

Mary Margaret waved off the compliment gently, her face scrunching up as she shook her head with a chuckle. "Oh, of course. You're welcome here anytime. You _and_ Leila."

"I really appreciate the good care you've taken of her, it's good for her to be around," Regina paused, not wanting to say ’people your age,’ but instead decided upon, "A close family such as yours."

“Ready to go," Leila returned then, her skirt fastened around her hips over the ridiculous pink leggings, the rest of her uniform also haphazardly thrown back onto her body and backpack slung over one shoulder.

“You sure about that?” Emma asked, eyebrows raised in judgement of her outfit.

“Oh, like you're the poster child for being _fashion_ _forward_ ,” Leila mocked sarcastically, punctuated by a roll of her eyes. “These are _your_ dumb pants in the first place.”

“I don't care whose they are,” Regina commented snobbily, leaning down to gently kiss Henry’s temple, a soft goodnight, before running a hand through his hair and straightening up to move towards the coat closet. “They're not coming into my house.”

“Too late,” Emma laughed as Leila dashed out of the door, an enthusiastic wave goodbye all she offered as she went. Regina shrugged her coat on smoothly, winding the scarf around her neck twice and standing expectantly near the still-open door, the chill of winter’s night air blowing into the room as she waited for Emma to do...something.

But the blonde was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the living room, her eyes darting between Mary Margaret and Regina uncomfortably. Her mother stood oblivious, leaning against the back of the couch amicably as she sipped her own coffee, happy to observe each interaction as it happened.

“Uh, Mom…” Emma began hesitantly, attempting a subtle jerk of the head towards Regina and then towards the other room to indicate that she’d prefer to say goodbye in private. Mary Margaret simply stared, nonplussed, at Emma in confusion.

“Yes, Emma?” She replied curiously, blowing across the surface of the hot beverage as she did so.

Emma sighed. Obviously, her mother wasn’t going anywhere, and there was no way she was going to bid Regina adieu the way she _wanted_ under those circumstances. She had two options: to say her goodbyes in front of her mother, or to offer to walk Regina to the car and say them in front of the kid. Neither was particularly appealing, so she was just going to have to remain casual. “Nothing.” She smiled and waved awkwardly towards the brunette, shoving a hand into her pocket as though she didn’t know what else to do with it. “Goodnight, Regina. I’ll talk to you later.”

The woman in question startled, followed by an amused smirk when she realized Emma didn’t plan to come any closer to her before she left for the evening. She placed her palm on the knob of the still-open door, giving Emma a significant _look_ (which the blonde took to mean she was in some form of trouble, but she didn’t know exactly what kind or if she would like it,) and answered, “I’ll look forward to that.”

As the door closed behind her firmly, Mary Margaret turned to Emma , throwing her hands in the air and nearly sloshing hot coffee all over herself in her frustration. “What was that? ‘I’ll talk to you later, Regina?’ That’s _it_?”

“You wouldn’t leave us alone, you creep!” Emma teased, crossing her arms over her chest, still cold from the prolonged opening of the door, and moved towards it to lock up behind Regina’s exit. “I’m not going to just...make out with my…”

She trailed off hesitantly, Mary Margaret’s eyes lighting up at the implication. “With Regina right in front of you. That’s weird. And you’re a little too invested in...all of this.”

“Well, excuse me for taking a healthy interest in my daughter’s love life,” She huffed, shrugging indignantly at Emma’s suggestion.

“A _healthy interest_ would be just asking how things are going, not following our every interaction like we’re your own personal _Young and the Restless_ storyline _,”_ Emma complained as she began to collect Henry’s school things and put them back into his bag for the next day.

“At least that story moves forward every day,” Mary Margaret countered, following Emma’s lead and starting to make a lunch for both Henry and herself for the following day. As she moved about the kitchen fluidly, Emma came to join her, back-to-back as she washed the mugs as Mary Margaret finished with them.

“They don't live with their parents!” Emma argued pointedly, to which Mary Margaret shrugged amicably.

“So…” She trailed off, glancing over her shoulder to where she could see Emma moving about in her peripheral vision. “What happens when you _don't_ live with your parents anymore? The bar is coming along quickly, and you're almost healed…”

She allowed the end of her sentence to hang suggestively in the air between them, which was met with a tired sigh from Emma.

“I don't know,” she replied quietly, and it was the truth. She had been mulling the idea over all evening, as it crept back in each time she let her guard down. Had Regina really suggested Emma move in with her, or had she imagined it? She knew that nothing would make them all happier. Henry was already completely at home there, obviously comfortable with Regina in some semblance of a parental role, and her heart ached at the thought of telling him they would be moving back into the loft upon clearance from the construction crew.

But then again, what if it _was_ wishful thinking and Regina had no such intentions at all? The whole thing caused a headache to seep in at her temples, and she harshly turned off the faucet as she rinsed the last dish Mary Margaret had dirtied while preparing the lunches. She would just have to worry about all of it at a later time. “But for now, I'm...happy. We’re happy. And our kids...they're _our_ kids, and we love them _._ ”

Her mother smiled, obviously holding back much she would have liked to say on the subject, and turned fully to face her, cradling Emma’s cheeks in her palms. “Then  _I_ am happy for you.”

They shared a brief, genuine smile before Mary Margaret squeezed her cheeks slightly in that way that always made Emma’s face crumple in displeasure. She dropped her hands to her hips with a sigh, taking a glance around the kitchen to ensure that it was cleaned enough for her to retire to her bedroom for the night.

“Just keep in mind,” She began warningly, to which Emma groaned and rolled her eyes, “Those shows with storylines that never move forward? They get cancelled, you know.”

And with a pointed, serious look that made Emma laugh at its ridiculousness, she made a beeline for her room, leaving Emma alone with Henry and her swirling, muddled thoughts.

 

\--------

 

As soon as they arrived home, Regina bypassed the closet in the foyer and went directly to the family room, shrugging off her coat heavily and dropping it on the back of the couch. Leila followed and looked at her skeptically, as she never just laid her coat down instead of hanging it up. "Regina, are you alright?"

Regina paused, her hand holding her chest as the tightening made it hard to breathe. "I'm still,” She cleared her throat, reaching up to feel the swollen glands in her throat tentatively, “...feeling a bit under the weather. I might have pushed myself a little too far tonight."

"Do you…?" She faltered, not quite sure how to take care of Regina, or even how to ask. "Is there something I can do for you?"

She cleared her throat again, wincing in pain as she brought her hand to Leila's cheek with a small, grateful smile. "How about some hot chocolate and a movie?"

Leila smiled brightly, although she was positive that wasn’t what her mom truly wanted. It was a school night, and well after the time Regina usually sent her to bed (fully aware that she would by no means go to sleep early, but she still made an effort to have some semblance of structure in the girl’s routine.) Leila shrugged; she appreciated the sentiment anyway, and she wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to bend the rules. "If you're sure."

"I am.” Regina coughed, settling on the couch to unzip and remove her leather boots methodically, tucking them underneath the coffee table in another move that baffled her daughter. “Go pick out a movie."

"It's your turn to pick, Regina.” Leila reminded her. She tentatively began to shed the pieces of her school uniform in a pile behind the couch, testing to see if Regina would reprimand her for the mess, but when she said nothing, Leila knew she must have really been feeling down. “I'll go make the hot chocolate, you go get some blankets and stuff."

"Alright, dear."

Leila watched her struggle to stand up and then disappear into the study to choose a movie, and so went on her way to making them hot chocolate just the way Regina had taught her.

As she finished washing the dishes and put away the ingredients, scorching hot mugs in each hand, she shuffled her way into the family room, trying not to spill. Walking with determination, she rounded the couch to set them on the end table, only to find her mother, wrapped up in a blanket and curled in the fetal position at one end, sound asleep but looking absolutely miserable.

Leila sat on the other end of the couch gingerly, sinking deeply into the cushions, intent on watching her for a while to make sure she was okay. She immediately turned on Netflix, choosing to continue watching _Charmed_ , which she'd admittedly been binge-watching well into most nights unbeknownst to Regina, and sipped her hot chocolate quietly and comfortably. She tossed a thick, cozy blanket across her lap as she tucked her legs beneath her, careful to leave enough space in case Regina needed to stretch out in her sleep.

Four episodes later, around three in the morning, Leila became worried. Regina had been coughing and groaning in her sleep, shaking and mumbling incoherently for a good forty-five minutes, and she was beginning to get _very_ nervous. She had never cared before whether someone she lived with was sick, but she found she couldn't just let it go. This was Regina. She pulled out her phone from the pocket of her hoodie, deciding to text Emma and see if she was awake.

" _Emma? Are you awake_?"

A few long moments passed waiting for a response, and then her other mother came through for her. " _Yeah, kid. Why aren't you asleep_?"

" _Regina passed out downstairs, she's kind of shaking. I'm not sure what to do to help her._ "

" _Go touch her forehead. See if she's warm_." Leila rolled her eyes. She obvious was, but she decided to humor her, not quite sure what the extent of her fever could be.

" _She's burning up! What do I do_?"

She paused, realizing Regina had never had a child in the house before and likely had no use for an actual ice pack. " _See if you can find an i_ _ _ce_ pack or a bag of veggies and wrap it in a dry towel. Put it behind her head. I'll be there soon_."

" _Okay, hurry. I'm worried_."

" _She'll be okay, I promise_."

Satisfied with that last response, Leila hurried off to comply with Emma’s request, returning shortly with the proffered ice pack, grateful she didn't have to get frozen vegetables because she wasn't sure Regina would have approved. She adjusted the blanket down to her mother’s waist, gently lifting and placing the frozen pack behind her head and pushing the slightly sweaty tendrils of hair away from her furrowed forehead.

“Regina?” She questioned softly, but to no avail. The brunette slept on, a low grumble in her throat with each breath. Leila leaned closer, placing a palm against her arm and nudged her as gently as possible.

“Mom?” She asked again tentatively, her hands hovering awkwardly somewhere between them both. She didn't know what kind of comfort she could offer, or if she should. It was confusing for her; she had never felt so acutely concerned for another person’s well-being.

“Hm?” Her mother sighed, a combination of a hum and an exhale, though Leila knew she remained completely asleep.

“Please be okay?” She requested in a whisper, and while rationally she understood that it was a simple sinus infection, and that it happened all the time, it had never happened to _Regina_ in the time since she’d been with her. The woman was her pillar of strength, of confidence, of _power,_ and it was disconcerting to see her weakened in any way. But more than anything, she ached to make her better in all the ways Regina had done for her in just the short number of months they'd had together.

“Emma’s coming,” she assured quietly, a soothing confirmation meant to calm them both. Emma would know what to do. And as she sat cautiously on the floor in front of Regina, awkwardly stroking her hair away from her face as it continually, stubbornly fell, she realized how much she needed them both, and how much she needed them _together._

 

\--------

 

Emma threw the covers from her body, bringing herself up to a sitting position as she reached for her sweatpants and pulled them up over her shorts once more. She _knew_ leaving them was stupid. Why her brain didn't tell her to go with Henry to Regina’s instead of keeping him there with her she didn't know, especially with how sick she could tell Regina really was. It had kept her up, mulling over in her head whether Regina was alright, whether moving in together would be natural progression of their relationship, whether she could mess everything up if she opened her mouth. It was all too much to think about, but of course it was all she _could_ think about.

She grabbed her jacket from the desk chair, slipping on her shoes as she made her way out of her room, sending Leila a quick " _On my way_ " text before stuffing her phone in her pocket. She crept down the stairs and into the living room to check on Henry and let him know what was going on in case he woke up in the middle of the night looking for her.

She knelt down in front of the couch gingerly, brushing the hair out of his face and rubbing his shoulder gently. He stirred, half opening his eyes as he stretched a little and groaned. "Hey buddy, how are you?"

"Uncomfortable. What's wrong?" He began to sit up, rubbing his eyes harshly with the heels of his palms as he woke further.

"Regina is really sick, so Leila is a little scared and asked me to run over there. Will you be okay here by yourself for a little while?"

"Why can't I just go home with you? I wanna be in my own bed."

Her heart clenched at his clear confusion. He wasn’t sure why he was there in the first place, and it had been a mistake to interrupt a routine to which he’d spent a month becoming accustomed. She smiled, brushing his hair back from his forehead before kissing it gently. “You can. Let me just go tell Grandpa, okay? Put your shoes on and grab your school stuff for me.”

As he yawned, but began to complete her request, Emma quietly stalked down the hall to her father’s study where she knew he would be awake, despite the late hour. Her parents, while so in tune with so many aspects of their life, operated on different frequencies when night fell. She smiled as she saw the soft glow of the lamp under the door, knocking gently before she opened it with hesitation.

“Dad?”

David turned his attention from the history channel’s documentary about some medieval war tactics to give her a pleased, expectant look. “Yes?”

“Can I…” She hesitated slightly, not knowing how well her request would be received. While it certainly seemed like her father had enjoyed Regina’s company, she wasn't sure where he stood on their obviously burgeoning relationship, or if he was even aware. But ultimately, a little voice that sounded very much like Leila probed in the back of her mind for her to get on with it. “I just wanted to let you know Henry and I are going over to Regina’s house.”

He glanced at his watch, a thick, silver band jingling against his wrist with a sound that Emma would recognize anywhere. She had saved her allowance for months when she was a child to buy it as a Christmas gift for him, but it had never quite fit. Rather than take links out (or allow any of them to do it for him) he had insisted that it was a perfect gift, and wore it exactly as it was from the moment Emma proudly fastened it to his arm the morning of her tenth Christmas.

“Is everything okay?” He muted the volume on the documentary, turning more fully in his chair towards her.

“Regina’s not feeling well, and Leila needs help,” she explained, leaning heavily against the frame of the door. She, too, was feeling a little run down, but their kid needed her, and she was going to be there for her. “And Henry wants to go home, anyway.”

David smiled softly, an understanding behind his eyes that she had never quite seen from her mother on this particular subject. "I'll tell your mother in the morning."

She breathed a huge sigh of relief and grabbed the keys to her Jeep where they had rested in a crystal bowl on his writing desk since she had been staying there. She still wasn't actually _supposed_ to drive, but she was fine with breaking the rules when necessary. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You're welcome,” he smiled, and slowly increased the volume of the television once more, their conversation seemingly concluded. He had always been her constant, the loving pillar of parental support in place each time she needed him.

As she began to retreat down the long hallway once more towards where Henry waited sleepily near the door, she heard David quietly calling her back. “Emma?”

She popped back into the room curiously, the keys dangling loosely from her fingers. “Yeah?”

“Regina,” He began slowly, and her heart started to pound wildly. _This is it_ , she panicked internally, _he knows and he hates it._

“She’s lovely,” he finished fondly, and Emma grinned brightly at the unexpected sentiment. “And she seems to really care for you, which is all we could ever ask of her.”

Emma swallowed around a lump in her throat as it formed without her consent, blinking back tears she couldn't have predicted. Her father had never acknowledged that her relationship with Ruby had ever become more than roommates with benefits in college, subsequently ignoring each failed relationship she had had with women in the last ten years. It just wasn't something they talked about; it was the _only_ something they didn't talk about, and Emma hadn't expected to hear a word from him about Regina in much the same fashion.

“I love her,” she admitted quietly, her heart beginning to race, "Both of them." She inhaled again, trying to calm down. "And so does Henry."

"I know."

"You do? How?" She quickly responded, certain that on this _particular_ subject he would have been fairly ambivalent.

"You're my little girl. You don't think I can tell when you love someone?"

She didn't quite know what to say to that, so she simply crossed over to where he sat and promptly sat on the sturdy arm of his chair, swinging her legs over the other side and squeezing him tightly in a hug, the same way she had done for as long as she could remember. “And I love you, you know.”

“I know.” He chuckled, reaching up to cradle the back of her head as they embraced awkwardly, their combined weight nearly too much for the armchair, and used his other hand to pat her back soothingly. “I love you, too. Now go take care of her. And if you need us, just call.”

With a gentle hum of appreciation, she removed herself from the room with a happy little wave goodbye, and with a laugh, collected Henry from where he leaned against the front door, almost asleep again where he stood. It took even less time than usual to drive the distance across town to Regina’s house, a combination of her nerves speeding them up and the lack of traffic on the streets in the middle of the night.

Before long, she shuffled Henry along the paved walk to the front door, unlocking it quietly and sending him up to his room with a gentle “ _I love you”_ and a sleepy murmur of agreement as he trudged up the stairs in a familiar pattern. She felt more than a little guilty moving him back and forth when he needed to get a good night’s rest, but she felt in her heart the right decision was bringing him home where he belonged.

She wasn't quite sure where to find Leila or Regina; it was likely that they were both in bed, but the unmistakable glow of the enormous television turned on in the family room gave Emma pause and pulled her in that direction, where she was met with a sight that surprised her.

Regina was tucked into herself on her side, Leila crouched uncomfortably on the floor in front of her monitoring her breathing. She looked up upon hearing Emma’s entry, her body sagging in obvious relief at her presence.

“Oh, thank god,” the girl sighed, and Emma rushed towards them, shrugging her jacket off of her shoulders as she went. She crouched gently on the floor beside her, and as their eyes met, Emma reached out to brush unruly blonde curls over her shoulder, nodding her head forward to indicate she was going to take over.

“It's okay,” she soothed, turning her focus to Regina, who slept on soundly despite the rattle in her chest with each breath.

“She doesn't wake up, no matter what I do,” Leila informed her, a hint of worry still coloring her tone despite the weight of nervousness that had lifted upon Emma’s arrival.

“She just doesn't feel well,” Emma murmured, leaning forward to press a firm kiss against the brunette’s forehead to gauge her temperature. It was alarmingly warm, and Emma knew only one solution. “Leila, I'm going to need you to help me.”

The girl agreed eagerly, and Emma jerked her head to the side towards where Regina remained, unchanged. “We need to get her upstairs, but I'm not...I can't exactly carry her right now, so…”

A stricken, guilty look flashed across Leila’s face, to which Emma took her hand within her own and clasped it tightly. “It's not your fault,” she reminded her firmly, and Leila hesitated, then nodded her acceptance. Emma had never seen her so discombobulated before, and it made her extremely glad she’d been awake to answer the message asking for help. “But we’ll have to help her get upstairs together. Alright?”

“Alright,” Leila agreed seriously, and Emma smiled to herself at the earnest way she wanted to help. As Leila sat primly on the edge of the couch cushion just below Regina’s feet, she focused once more on Regina herself, reaching out to stroke the side of her face gently within the backs of her fingers to coax her awake.

“Regina,” she called out softly, hoping to wake her in the least abrasive way possible. But the brunette carried on unaffected, the only change a deeper rattle in her breathing as she subtly shifted her position further onto her back in response to Emma’s touch.

“Regina.” She stated more loudly, reaching out with both hands to shake her gently, her body moving back and forth lifelessly beneath Emma’s hands. It garnered a response, though, and the woman cracked one eye open blearily.

“Em...ma?” She croaked hoarsely, clearing her throat as much as she could as she awoke. It was a rough, harsh sound that made Emma cringe; things had gotten _much_ worse even since the afternoon they had spent together, and she felt retroactively guilty for every second they had... _exerted_ themselves. “What are you…?”

“You have a really high fever,” Emma explained calmly, reaching beneath Regina’s trembling body to lift her into a more seated position. “So we need to bring it down. Can we move upstairs?”

It irritated her beyond measure that she was unable to carry the woman up the stairs herself, like she normally could have. Instead, she tugged her up from the couch as much as possible, wincing and grunting whether she tried to hold it in or not. "I'm fine, just out of shape." She reassured Leila on the other side of her, and managed to shuffle a now semi-conscious Regina into enough of an upright position to guide her upstairs and to her bedroom.

"I need you to go and start the shower for me.” Emma instructed as she deposited Regina onto the bed. “Lukewarm, not cold just yet, so she has time to wake up a little. Then turn the bath and sink water all the way to hot to make some steam in the room to help with her breathing. We'll kick this thing's ass. We just need to get her fever down first."

The girl nodded with determination, clearly grateful to have a task that would actually help her mother get better as she took off and ran into the bathroom, throwing a " _Got it._ " over her shoulder as she closed the door behind her.

"You really don't need to make such a fuss over me." Regina groggily croaked as Emma sat down next to her on the bed, frustratingly unable to support her weight by herself.

"Of course we do."

Regina smiled flatly in response. "Emma?"

"Hmm?" She responded as she pressed a firm kiss on her forehead, hoping it'd help relieve some of her sinus pressure.

She groaned softly, head falling with a grimace as she rubbed her temples, foregoing words as it had become too much effort.

Her heart melted at the sight of the defeated Mayor, slumped over on the bed, soaking wet from her fever, teeth chattering gently, eyes droopy and clearly exhausted. "We're going to make it better, okay? I won't leave you again."

She nodded with a lazy half smile. "Just want you here…always..." She trailed off, nodding off once again. Emma's heart began to race and she quickly turned to look at Regina.

"Hey, you can't fall back asleep."

Leila scrambled out the door, steam following her as she came to reach under Regina's left shoulder. "Come on, Mom, let's just make it to the shower, okay? You'll feel so much better."

"Such a good girl, my little one." She smiled softly as the blondes lifted her to her feet.

After a bit of a struggle to maneuver her upstairs, they finally made it, Emma sat next to Regina on the bed, catching her breath as Leila ran around frantic.

"I put some sinus medicine on the counter with a glass of water.” Leila instructed, “Towels are on the toilet, she likes to use two, lotion is on her bedside table, she always uses it before bed, and I'll just...go wait in my room while you handle," She waved her hands in her mother's vicinity as Emma began attempting to undress her. "All of that."

Emma smiled gratefully with a firm nod as she began to try to help Regina shuffle out of her pants. "Meet me back here in like half an hour?"

After a thoroughly frustrating thirty minutes of watching her be miserable and helping Regina as she stood under a stream of water cool enough to make Emma uncomfortable, the blonde had dressed them both in some of Regina’s more comfortable sleepwear and settled into the middle of the bed beneath the down comforter. She allowed the brunette to rest heavily against her chest, stroking the damp, dark hair away from her flushed forehead with mumbled, sweet encouragements to help her fall asleep. Leila, it seemed, had passed out in her own bedroom, but Emma felt she had worried enough for one night and carried on without her.

“Emma?” Regina mumbled, tucking her face into the blonde’s chest to suppress a sudden, strong urge to cough. She took a deep breath, her eyes closing as Emma began to rub soothingly up and down her back.

“Mm?” She hummed her reply, her other hand reaching out to wrap around her small frame and pull Regina more fully on top of her. She wasn't sure how keen the other woman was on being held while she was feeling ill, but to Emma it felt _right_ to hold her close. To care for a woman who was ordinarily so self-reliant, it made her feel important in an entirely new, but welcome, way.

“Will you stay?”

It was a quiet, simple request murmured into the skin between the top buttons of the silken pajama top Emma wore, but it made her smile. She knew that with a few more hours of sleep, some vitamins, and a decongestant, Regina would be good as new. But for now, she was content to live blissfully within this moment, with their limbs tangled and hearts so completely entwined.

“As long as you’ll have me.”

 

\--------

 

After that evening, and after the previous, torturous month away from one another, Emma knew that she'd find any excuse possible to spend time with Regina. They'd settled into a comfortable routine and things finally felt like they were calming down. After dropping the kids off at Mary Margaret's house (who graciously offered to take the kids with her regularly. “ _No use in wasting the gas if we're going to the same destination!_ ", she'd declared,) Emma would practically run to Regina's awaiting car to spend the day with her. The brunette started working from home more often, only leaving her study for meetings and lunch, not only to spend more time with her family, but also because she found herself much more productive when she could be in her own space.

They'd end up in Regina's library-turned-study, a cozy space fit for a queen. Floor to ceiling oak shelves lined the walls, adorned with more books than Emma had seen in her life outside of an _actual_ library. The brunette would get to work, typing away furiously on her laptop, occasionally stopping to take phone calls or pull various law editions from behind her desk. She'd thumb through them as if she'd read them hundreds of times, a huge smile forming across her face when she had an "aha!" moment in what Emma thought to be the cutest of ways.

And there Emma always sat, perched with her back against the arm of Regina's red leather couch so there was just enough room for her to catch the brunette out of the corner of her eye, but still enough that she could do so in secret while _sometimes_ pretending she was reading. That was the catch to her being there; Regina had agreed that while the bar was being rebuilt, there was no reason she _had_ to be stuck at her parents’ house, and it was much more fun to cook lunch together than to eat at Granny's with a certain someone always eyeing them suspiciously. Which, Emma admitted, she had allowed her to have feelings about, especially with how much of a bitch Ruby had been lately.

"Hey, Regina?"

The brunette hummed to her in response, nose deep in an ungodly large volume of something Emma wasn't remotely interested in; her eyes never left the monstrosity as she held the tip of her glasses absentmindedly that she twirled as she read. They were something of a running joke between them. Emma loved her in glasses; _really_ loved them, but it was one of those "getting older" things that Regina had brushed off, insisting that she didn't _need_ and could most certainly do without. And while Emma knew that was bullshit, it also meant that she wore them more often in Emma's presence because she liked when the blonde fawned over her. “ _They're only for electronic screens_ ," she'd defend. " _I'm not blind, I don't need glasses_ ," she responded quickly when Emma would comment about her squinting. It felt very domestic, and it made a tingling sensation low in the pit of her stomach that she _quite_ enjoyed.

"I still don't understand why Harry didn't just grab one of the fifteen hundred _other_ acceptance letters that shot into his house and insisted on the one Vernon tried ripping out of his hands. Why didn't he just kick one under the crack in the closet under the stairs and call it a night? He's dumb."

There was only so much work Emma could do from home for the impending re-opening of the Rabbit Hole, so while she spent her days holed up in Regina’s study to just spend some _time_ with her, Emma had figured finally reading the Harry Potter series would give her something to talk about with Regina and Leila since they'd been so aghast that she'd only seen the movies.

"He's a child, Emma." Regina supplied, distracted, as she looked between the book and screen of her computer repeatedly.

"Yeah, a stupid one.”

“Be that as it may,” Regina smiled, finally sliding her glasses over the bridge of her nose as she returned her attention fully to the document on her laptop, “?Children rarely make logical decisions when faced with illogical situations like abuse."

Emma rolled her eyes with a _hmph,_ flipping the page of the novel aggressively as she shot Regina a playfully annoyed look at her disagreement. It was undeniably sexy that she was _so_ smart. She thought better of speaking, however, when she realized Regina would understand that sentiment intimately. She shuddered at the thought.

She stood from the couch, slowly and confidently walking over to Regina's desk, carefully maneuvering her body around the highly stacked books surrounding it. It always amazed her that the one place Regina felt most like herself was such an organized mess. But it was oddly comforting in a way. That she sought solace and relief around books. Around literature and science and law. _Structure_. Fantasy within the safety of her own four walls. It was somewhat sad, and yet still so beautiful. _She_ was beautiful. It made Emma's heart ache.

She tip-toed her fingers across the front edge of the desk, hoping that Regina would be enticed enough to look up from her studies. And when it didn't work, she pouted and stood with her arms crossed at the corner of the desk, waiting to be noticed, her foot tapping in annoyance.

"You do realize, love, that if you want something from me, all you have to do is ask."

"I'm lonely!" Emma huffed, yet Regina never looked up at her.

"There's plenty in that book of yours to keep you company."

"But it's not the same!" Emma pouted. She knew she was being childish, but she had run out of her _own_ work to do, and messing with Regina was always fun.

"Emma, the deal was that you could be here with me if I was allowed to do my work within the peace and quiet of my library."

"Your deal sucks.” She pursed her lips, looking around the expanse of the desk before her eyes lit up with another idea. “Let's make a new one."

Regina plucked her glasses off her face and slowly folded them, placing them in the binding of the book in front of her. She turned away from her desk and crossed her legs, looking at Emma expectantly. "What did you have in mind?"

Emma smirked, knowing she'd all but won and lowered herself to sit on the corner of the desk, crossing her own legs and sliding her hands between her crossed thighs. "We could...uh…you know…"

"What I know could fill an entire library, darling. Be more specific."

"Oh, shut up, smarty pants.” Emma teased, kicking the side of Regina’s chair. “Everybody knows you're brilliant. How about we...kiss a little?” She suggested, wiggling her eyebrows as she jerked her head in the direction of the red leather couch. “That couch is awfully comfy and awfully lonely without you on it with me."

"This defeats the purpose of me _working_ from home if you're going to interrupt me every fifteen minutes because you have the attention span of a child,” Regina chided, but she subtly removed Emma’s hands from between her thighs and replaced them with her own. She squeezed, digging her nails into the denim and loved the gasp it elicited from the blonde.

Emma grinned at the first touch of Regina’s palms against the rough material of her jeans. Once she touched her, all bets were off. She slid off of the edge of the desk promptly, tangling her fingers with Regina’s as she walked backwards around oddly placed book piles towards the couch, Regina stalking towards her in kind, bottom lip drawn under her teeth around a soft smile.

“Shut up,” Emma argued, and as Regina’s knees hit the couch and she stumbled back to lay flat along its length, Emma smoothly moved on top of her to press against her at every point. “My attention span is fine.”

“Prove it,” Regina breathed, and the next moment Emma surged forward; her lips covered Regina’s in a kiss that left them both breathless, and her fingers laced with the brunette’s so that she could bring both their hands to rest above Regina’s head.

“Emma,” she sighed, shifting her hips to cause one of the blonde’s legs to fall between her own, and Emma used her free hand to caress her leg starting from her knee and up the outside of her thigh, bringing her dress up to bunch around her waist.

“Yeah?” She murmured softly just below Regina’s ear, nipping the skin there just harshly enough to cause the brunette’s hips to jerk with each bite.

“Do you think we have time to…” Regina trailed off suggestively, a low moan escaping her throat as Emma pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss just under her jaw. 

“What time are your decorators coming back?” Emma replied softly as she peppered kisses along the swell of her breast, relishing the way she could feel her breathing shortened with each brush of her lips. It wouldn't do to venture into their first _real_ time together, only to be interrupted yet again by Regina’s team of holiday decorators contracted to dress the house to the nines in Christmas decor.

“Two o’clock,” Regina sighed as she extracted her hands from Emma’s hold and wrapped them around her waist, tucking them into the back pockets of Emma’s jeans. She began to rhythmically use the new hold to pull Emma’s hips against her thigh, a move that created friction so distracting for them both that she nearly missed Emma’s answer.

“Hell yeah, we have time,” Emma confirmed excitedly, and her hand slipped further inside Regina’s dress to hook into the lace just above her hip bone. They still had yet to move any further than...well, _this_ , and Emma felt very suddenly that if she had to wait any longer, she might die.

“Bedroom?” Regina groaned, one hand leaving its home on Emma’s ass to drag her nails up her back and under her shirt, their mouths meeting furiously in another rushed, delicious kiss as her fingers began to unfasten the clasp of her bra.

“Yes,” Emma nodded, but when no movement occurred because she was still a little shocked it was _finally_ about to happen, Regina huffed and shoved at her a little so she'd snap out of it and take her to the damn bedroom.

" _Now_ ." Regina commanded, and Emma agreed fervently against her lips as she began to expertly extract her body from its place atop Regina’s. She had been thinking of almost nothing other than the feeling of Regina’s soft, gorgeous body against hers since the _last_ time they had really been together.

While Emma spent most afternoons with her as she worked, this was the first time she’d been able to convince the brunette to take anything... _extracurricular_...any further than making out on the couch for a few minutes between tasks. She was determined not to waste this opportunity.

She followed Regina closely, her own shirt lifting over her head easily and abandoned somewhere along the stairs as she reached out to unzip the back of the dress Regina wore; she was confident that if she ripped, or harmed in some way, that dress, it would be the last dress she ever got to help remove from Regina’s body. She placed quick, soft kisses over the dusting of freckles across the brunette’s shoulders as she stepped out of the dress somewhere near the top stair, leaving her in only things that were small, black, and lacy.

The bedroom couldn't have seemed further away, though a large portion of their journey was spent pinning one another against walls, tongues dipping into mouths as hands wandered frantically while they travelled deeper into the hallway in search of the master bedroom.

Regina grabbed Emma's wrist sternly as she once again stopped them to kiss a little more on the way there. "Come."

Emma gulped. "I'm _trying."_

Regina turned to give her a pointed side glance as she pulled her the rest of the way, crossing the threshold to her room as she roughly slammed the door closed behind them, freezing at the end of the bed, suddenly uncertain as it was as far as they'd gotten in proximity ( _in this manner)_ to the bed she once shared with Robin. And while Emma had innocently _slept_ there with her once before, this was the closest she had come to anything more.

Sensing Regina's hesitation, Emma linked their fingers, walking her to her side of the bed, lightly shoving her into a sitting position as the brunette looked up at her in shock of the predatory movement. "Stop thinking. Stop worrying. It's just you and me now."

Regina nodded and swallowed hard, reaching out to tug Emma closer by her belt loops, kissing and dragging her teeth gently just below her belly button. She grinned against her skin, her nerves evaporating as she was enveloped in senses and feelings that were so _Emma_ she could hardly fathom ever feeling anything else.

“Take this off,” Regina demanded haughtily of the bra she had only half unclasped downstairs that still hung loosely over Emma’s shoulders. She sighed happily at the new skin suddenly exposed to her, her tongue running along the underside of a breast before ending in a gentle reverent kiss over Emma’s collarbone.

Emma was grateful for their first “date,” so to speak, in the afternoon bubble bath, as it gave her confidence and made her feel safe in the moment. Because she knew, above all else, Regina would take care of and adore her, even with her various ailments. It made the experience that much more intimate. She divested herself of her pants and socks deftly, enjoying the way Regina’s eyes roved over her body hungrily as it became more exposed.

All of a sudden, Regina tugged Emma down on top of her, moving fluidly towards the middle of the bed as she kissed the blonde hard with renewed fervor, her arms winding lazily around Emma’s shoulders. Emma’s hands roamed freely now, and she began to trail soft, wet kisses down the side of Regina’s neck and over her chest as she slid a palm over the brunette’s side and around her back to unclasp the delicate black bra. She pressed her lips to the center of her chest, Regina’s back arching away from the bed immediately in response, which allowed her the room she needed to remove the garment completely.

“You're so beautiful,” Emma reminded her softly, and their eyes met briefly before Regina broke into a genuine, bright smile in response.

“ _Em-ma_ ,” she sighed, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth as the blonde laced their fingers together once more, dragging their clasped hands above Regina’s head and burying them beneath the pillows, effectively pinning her down in an entirely delicious way that made Regina’s heart race erratically.

“I want you,” Emma murmured, swinging her leg over so that she straddled Regina’s hips to rest on her knees, a curtain of soft, blonde hair secluding them as she bent down to plant a sweet, firm kiss on her.

“So, take me,” Regina suggested, a warm, low murmur against Emma’s parted lips, and it was all the permission she needed to move forward with her task. As she began to trail soft, feather-light kisses down her flushed body, Emma hummed her appreciation for each curve, mark, and freckle that she came across.

“Are you sure?” Emma ventured slowly, hovering somewhere just below Regina’s navel, the tip of her tongue then tracing the line of delicate lace at the apex of her thighs. She looked up innocently when Regina groaned her frustration, with Emma’s hooked fingers sliding into either side of the garment in preparation to remove it upon command. She arched her back, ready to help with the motion.

And nothing happened.

“Emma?” Regina replied, her voice cracking on the last syllable. Her own hands drifted down to gently hold either side of the blonde’s face as their eyes met. She implored, “I have wanted you for _sixteen years_ . Just," she inhaled deep and slow, her eyes closing in frustration, feeling Emma's nerves, and wished she could rid her of the anxiety, but she so desperately needed her - _this_. Because she was so perfect and wonderful - beautiful - _god damn it_ and.  _"_ Stop thinking and _fuck_ me.”

At the blonde’s sharp gasp, Regina grinned. She knew then, more than ever, that she was irrevocably in love with her, and she intended to show her just how much. Emma wasted no more time as she proceeded to rid Regina of that last garment, her hands coming to rest on the brunette’s abdomen gently as she settled between her legs, gifting a series of kisses to her inner thighs in a way that made Regina squirm incessantly.

“Emma…” She warned, her chest heaving as her breathing deepened and yet still somehow grew more shallow as Emma’s tongue swirled higher, so near now to making Regina come undone.

And then, as it had so many times before, the phone rang.

Emma startled, losing her nerve, quickly jumping up and away in response, and Regina slammed her palms in frustration against the mattress, her eyes burning a hole into Emma’s naked back as she retracted her body from where they were tangled together and sat on the edge of the bed, fighting fruitlessly with the jeans she had only recently removed to find the still-ringing phone in a front pocket.

“I swear to god, if we get interrupted by one more _goddamn_ call, our first time will have a phone audience.” Regina complained indignantly, drawing the sheet over her cooling body as she watched Emma struggle to answer the call. " _Answer it."_ Regina fumed as Emma turned slightly to send her an apologetic shrug.

She brought the phone quickly to her ear as Regina huffed loudly in the background. " _Hello_? _Mom...oh...he's sick...he threw up? Alright. I'll be there soon. Thanks._ "

She turned quickly, crawling back to sit on her knees next to the brunette who looked more perturbed than angry but _quite_ unenthused about the interruption. "I'm _so_ sorry. It was my moth-"

"Do _not_ finish that sentence." Regina shuddered, not particularly fond of discussing _mothers_ in bed. She sat up slightly and leaned back on her elbows, her head tilted to one side as she gave Emma an annoyed, yet light hearted glare. She softened however, at Emma’s torn, crestfallen look, and placed a hand over Emma's and urged her to look her in the eyes. "It's okay. We'll have _plenty_ more opportunities.” And although she was disappointed ( _because hadn't they waited long enough?)_ she inquired gently. “What's wrong with Henry?"

"He threw up, I guess? I don't know. She was pretty vague. I have to go pick him up. I'll...I can take him to.." She drawled on not sure where the interruption left them.

"You'll bring him here. We'll take care of him. _Together._ But _after_ I shower because," she paused, not wanting to deflate Emma's tarnished confidence. "If you aren't going to take care of me now, I _must_ finish elsewhere or I might…"

But whatever she _might_ do was lost as Emma surged forward and kissed her hard on the lips, throwing a leg over Regina's abdomen once more, pushing her back against the pillows as she tugged at her bottom lip and kissed her with more passion than she'd ever felt in her life. Just as Regina was about to pull her down onto her, Emma quickly untangled herself and escaped, leaving the brunette heaving and flustered and flushed. "Just imagine all the ways I'd _take_ you while I'm gone.”

She quickly tugged her clothing back onto her body, or at least the pieces that had made it to the bedroom, and gave Regina a wicked smirk.

“Oh, I will,” Regina sighed wistfully, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to sit regally on its edge as she watched Emma dress, a haughty, bored look on her face. “And I certainly have before," she continued with a flip of her hand in dismissal. "Perhaps you should imagine all the ways _I_ intend to take _myself_...while you're gone.”

She smirked with small shrug to her shoulders as Emma’s jaw dropped, and she gently tapped it closed with the tip of her index finger as she passed by on her way to the bathroom to run an enticingly hot shower.

 

\--------

 

“Henry, you'll get sick again,” Emma reprimanded sharply as she watched Regina sneak him an extra spoonful of chocolate chip cookie dough out of the corner of her eye. He shoved it in his mouth triumphantly before the end of her sentence had even escaped her mouth, and the look of playful reproach she gave him was met by a colossal eye roll from Leila, who stood on Regina’s other side methodically scooping dough from the stainless steel mixing bowl onto several baking sheets.

“Calm down, Emma, he’ll live,” she shrugged, taking a brief respite from her task to take a huge gulp of chocolate milk from the tall glass she’d placed in the middle of the chaos of her baking mess. “It's just a little cookie dough.”

“I know it won't _kill_ him,” Emma reasoned, tugging a tall stool away from the other side of the kitchen island to sit across from them. She had been given the chore of untangling strings and strings of Christmas lights, and she stared wistfully across the counter at the Hershey’s kisses Regina was unwrapping, as she became increasingly resentful of the way the jobs had been divided amongst the four of them. “But he’s had like twelve of those, because Regina is not half as smooth as she thinks she is. I see you, you know,” she reminded the brunette pointedly, to which Regina simply shrugged innocently, popping one of the chocolate candies into her mouth.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” she smiled, brushing her hands off on her apron.

Emma abandoned her seat just as quickly as she had taken it and circled the island to walk up behind her, reaching sneakily into a canister to come out with hands covered in flour, and grabbed her ass, promptly leaving two white handprints, unbeknownst to Regina. She jumped at the contact, gasping slightly as she swatted at Emma's hands in retaliation. Emma leaned in slightly over her shoulder so as not to catch the ears of the kids and whispered, "Remember that the next time the school calls because Henry has an upset stomach and we have to take care of _him_ when I could be taking care of _you."_

Regina froze, eyes wide in remembrance. "Henry, your mother is right, no more sweets. Go get a glass of water to drink instead."

"Hey! That's no fair!” Henry protested indignantly. “You guys don't get to gang up on me like that."

"Funnily enough, pal, that's _exactly_ what we get to do.” Emma smiled, dusting her floury hands off on Regina’s apron to resume her task with the lights as she gave him an apologetic shrug. “Sorry about your luck."

"Having two moms sucks."

It was the first time Henry had indicated that he felt the same way towards Regina that she did about him. It nearly knocked the wind out of her with the weight of its significance, despite the casual, natural way the sentiment fell out of his mouth; and as she clutched her chest in surprise, she glanced around to notice with a slight twinge of confusion that no one else in the room seemed to be affected at all by the proclamation.

Leila didn't even look up from rolling her dough, so used to being the only one who understood that particular feeling. "Welcome to the club, kid. Been saying that forever."

"Yeah, write a strongly worded letter about it." Emma bantered lightly, setting the timer on the oven, as she'd just slid a pan of snowman-shaped sugar cookies into it.

At Henry's dirty look and Leila's disapproving scoff, Regina felt a sudden burst of inspiration and turned around to grab two handfuls of flour from the open canister, promptly flicking it in both their directions, the white cloud of dust raining down on them in an instant.

Leila's eyes grew wide with disbelief, Henry gasped, and Emma slapped her thighs in delight as she let out a giant belly laugh.

"Oh, you do _not_ want to start something you can't finish, Regina." Leila warned, glancing to the side at her mother as she rolled a slightly bigger ball of dough between her palms.

"I think I just did.” Regina smirked, brushing her hands together to remove the excess flour. “But since having two moms _sucks_ so much, perhaps you're too... _chicken_...to do anything about it."

“The lights are ready!” Emma interrupted, her eyes darting between the two Mills women as she noted the challenge in Regina’s eyes as they bore into Leila’s defiant ones.

“Yes!” Henry cheered, shaking his head fervently to remove the flour from his hair, the challenge already forgotten in his mind at the proposal of a new event. “Let's go decorate the tree!”

He hopped down from his stool by Regina’s side, swiftly downing the last gulp of his water before taking off in the direction of the foyer. Emma watched him go with amusement before returning her attention to Regina, who waited patiently as Leila very obviously contemplated smacking her with the ball of cookie dough. 

“I don't know what you think you're going to do with that,” Regina began, resuming her previous task of unwrapping the chocolate candies while directing a pointed look at her daughter, “but I sincerely hope you aren't planning to throw it at _me_.”

“Oh?” Leila quirked a brow, tilting her head to one side inquisitively. “And why not?”

“Because,” Regina replied evenly, “You have no idea what _I_ am capable of.”

The playful glare turned sharp in an instant, and Leila gulped under the scrutiny. Emma laughed as she watched her discreetly return the dough to the mixing bowl, remnants of cloudy white flour dusted over her nose from Regina’s original attack. The brunette allowed her mouth to turn up into a sly smirk at one corner, another victory under her belt.

“I thought we were decorating the tree!” A little, inquisitive voice called distantly from the center of the ground floor, where a handsome, evergreen monstrosity awaited their attention in the form of baubles, tinsel, and twinkling lights.

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

Upon Henry’s prompting, they had all ventured into the family room together to begin decorating their Christmas tree. Henry was face deep in a box full of lights and beads, Emma begrudgingly half inside the attic struggling to tug a long strand of garland that would reside on the mantle, and Regina under her holding her feet as she sighed and huffed at the blonde’s ineptitude at completing such a simple task. "You just have to lift it up over your shoulder!" She'd exclaimed, to which Emma turned to glare down at her, mumbling under her breath that perhaps Regina's _regal ass_ would like to do it herself. Leila had watched the scene unfold, hands on her hips, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of the moment.

"Why don't you let _me_ get up there and hand it down to you and then Regina can pull and organize it the way she wants it. Team effort."

Emma had grumbled her acquiescence and Regina laughed, sending a pleased grin in Leila's direction.

"That's a wonderful idea, dear."

As Regina helped Leila work her way up the stairs, Emma nudged her, hitting her on the butt as she passed her on the ladder for being the hero, finally pulling herself into the space above. "Woah! This room is huge!" She exclaimed in utter disbelief that something so big was for _storage_ . "And you just use all this space for Christmas decorations?" She was baffled; the space was as big as the loft at Emma's, beautiful windows lined the front, hardwood floors covered the entirety of it and she could absolutely picture herself feeling at home up there. "Hell, _I'd_ live up here!"

"Kid, stop gawking and start handing the stuff down since it was your _brilliant_ idea to make a chain gang out of this."

Regina cleared her throat sternly at Emma's attitude as Leila found her footing and untangled the branches, crouching as she began to let the greenery down little by little. It took a few moments (the thing was elaborate _,_ after all,) and by the last strand, it had completely taken up the length of the entryway. She handed a few more boxes down, each neatly labeled “Christmas,” which Emma placed in a haphazard heap at the foot of the stairs, the bottom of which cradled where Regina’s display tree stood, nearly as tall as the high ceilings and elaborately dressed, the one that had been delivered earlier in the afternoon.

Emma shot her a thumbs up from the bottom letting her know she was good to finish up, Regina verbally confirming she was satisfied everything she needed was down and organized to be brought into the other room. Leila nodded, turning around to begin her descent down the retractable stairs, smiling softly one last time at all the amazing things she could imagine in all that space if it were her own. She reached for the light switch just to her left when she spotted a box in the corner simply marked "Special Ornaments." She quickly crawled back up and grabbed the box, scrambling down the stairs with it carefully as she exited the entryway.

"Hey Regina, I found this box up there too." She held it up curiously as she entered the family room, where Emma was assembling the tree piece by piece as Henry struggled under the weight of several strands of iridescent white beads that had somehow become wrapped around him.

Regina didn't turn to look from her position on the step-stool as she neatly aligned the garland along the mantle, the huge wreath already hung over the fireplace and twinkling brightly. "That's great, dear, just put it over there and help Henry untangle himself."

She walked over to the tree, placing the container gently by the wall as she laughed at Henry's attempt to pull pearl beads from their bag as they untangled and fell, cascading around him as he tried desperately to find an end piece to start with. "Need some help?"

“Please?” He confirmed with a firm nod, finally giving up and extending his arms helplessly and waiting for Leila to assist him.

As she diligently worked to untangle Henry’s beaded mess, Leila took a moment to lose herself in her own thoughts about all of it; the first Christmas decorating she had ever _really_ done. Her first response upon seeing it all when she got home from school earlier that day was one of delighted shock. The exterior of the Mayoral mansion was wrapped in intricately placed lights, with ribbons cascading gently as a delicate touch. She walked up to the front door, enamored with it all, though it still couldn't have prepared her for the tree that met her just beyond the entry stairs in the foyer.

Technically speaking, it was her first. Certainly there had been cheap ones scattered throughout various homes, but nothing quite compared to the tree that stood before her. It must have been thirty feet tall, beautifully lit and intricately dressed with deep red and white ribbon, beautiful and unique crystal ornaments hung from almost every branch as the lights behind them gleamed, reflecting the hue and scattering it in every possible direction.

It was breathtaking, but something about it just wasn't right. Regina had had professionals come in with tall ladders and specific, detailed plans, each piece accounted for and categorized like it was a prized museum collection. It had come together that very afternoon, just as Regina had told her it would. She'd just gotten a glimpse of the workers as they'd piled in early with their equipment as she headed out to meet Emma's mom at her car. It unnerved her a little, though, because there was no personality or warmth, no _Regina_ or _family_ about it and it just didn't feel like _Christmas_.

And yet, it was still one of the most beautiful things she'd ever seen in her life.

"Honey, we have more than one tree.” Regina had explained patiently at the girl’s dismayed persistence at the lack of holiday spirit that hiring professionals brought to decorating their home. “ _Ours_ is going to be in the family room. This one has to be spectacular and impressive because I'm the Mayor."

"What does that have to do with anything? They have their own trees, why are they worried about ours?"

She'd shrugged slightly, not catching the girl's harsh eyes, unsure how to explain what being "famous" in a moderately small town meant. "People here, they...well, it's become a bit of a tradition for families to drive by my house to view the decorations. The crew will put up a display of lights outside later today and the townspeople that visit will also be able to view inside this part of the house and see the tree. And I would never want to disappoint them.”

"They drive by your house to stare at your decorations? Isn't that weird? People just...stop outside and spy on you?"

“Something like that, I suppose,” Regina confirmed absently as she gently removed crystal ornaments from their packages.

“Regardless,” Leila protested,  “No one even comes here but us, why do we need to have two?”

"Actually, _many_ people came here during the holidays. At least they used to."

 "Yeah, kid, I've heard stories about Regina's famous Christmas parties,” Emma interjected as she took a break to sweep her long, loosely curled hair into a high ponytail to get it out of her face. She placed her hands on her hips, jerking her head in Regina’s direction as she spoke. “Never got an invite though, can you believe that?”

“Do you expect me to believe that you would have come?” Regina argued incredulously, turning to look over her shoulder at the both of them from where she now knelt in front of the fire, stoking the flame. “I hardly think the owner of the seediest bar in town would have enjoyed a holiday party thrown specifically for Storybrooke’s most dreadfully boring citizens.”

Emma thought to point out that the Rabbit Hole could hardly be the _seediest_ bar in town for the sole fact that it was the _only_ bar in town, but she refrained. Instead, she caught Leila’s eye, a mischievous smirk emerging as Regina turned her back on them once more. “Hey, it's pretty common knowledge that the Mayor’s Christmas party is the wildest night of the year.”

“Regina,” Leila gasped, placing a hand over her heart in shock. “Are you...a _bad apple?_ ”

Regina pushed off from the ground and stood, turning slowly to face off across the room from where the two blondes were huddled together to mock her mercilessly.

“Oh, please,” she rolled her eyes, “If I remember correctly, _Emma_ was the one keeping our entire house awake nearly every night of our sophomore year...doing God knows what.”

“Hey,” Emma protested, her eyes darting over to where Henry, blissfully unaware, draped the strings of beads over plain tree limbs, his head bobbing along to the rhythm of the music. “Little ears!”

“To be fair,” Leila snorted, “Unless you say the words ‘Marvel’ or ‘DC’ or ‘White Knight,’ he doesn't pay much attention, so you should be fairly safe.”

“What about the White Knight?” Henry inquired suddenly, interrupting his artful decoration as he popped out from behind the tree as though he’d been addressed specifically.

“Nothing,” the three answered in unison, to which he screwed up his face in confusion, but ultimately shrugged nonchalantly and carried on as though he hadn't been interrupted. Henry had adjusted to many things from living with three women, all of whom were intelligent with varied, strong opinions; mostly, he found it was best to go with the flow. He lived in a world of fantasy within his own head, and though he occasionally checked in with his own Lost Princess and White Knight at home, he liked his storybook just fine.

“So, I forget, kid, which Christmas movies haven’t you seen?” Emma prompted the girl, efficiently changing the subject.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, accepting the delicate, shimmery ribbon Regina passed to her to wrap around the bottom half of the tree. “I’ve seen whichever ones played on cable, I guess. Maybe? I’ve never really been into Christmas.”

“Great! We’ll just watch all of them, then.” Emma replied heartily, stepping up quietly behind a distracted Regina to wrap a velvety red ribbon around her waist, using it to tug her closer and wrap her arms around the woman for a hug. The brunette smiled softly, allowing the embrace for a moment, before gently extracting herself to move around the tree to help Henry re-wrap a string of lights around a higher section of branches.

Leila observed them quietly, absorbing the feeling of time spent together after what felt like _ages_ of homework, or doctor’s appointments, or budget meetings, or Robin, or any multitude of things that had kept them all busy or apart since the fire at the Rabbit Hole. She saw the way her mothers moved more easily, more fluidly, around one another, sharing secret smiles and _oozing_ happiness. She noticed how Regina focused more singularly on Henry, and was pleased to find she didn't feel an ounce of jealousy in response to their blossoming relationship. She grinned at the way Emma shuffled through the holiday-inspired music, the blonde’s inability to listen to a whole song all the way through- so like Leila herself.

“Hey!” Emma blurted out happily as the song changed over the surround sound system, an upbeat, happy Christmas pop song ringing out. “I love this one!”

“Who doesn't?” Leila agreed, reaching out with a palm facing up and an arched brow, an offer to Regina, who hesitated in the middle of her decorating, then turned and cautiously gave the crystal ornament she held to Henry. She smirked, a happy glow behind bright, brown eyes, as she took her daughter’s hand and they twirled into the middle of the room, dancing and laughing together to the sound of _Feliz Navidad,_ and Leila thought perhaps it was the best Christmas she’d ever had, despite the fact that it was merely the first weekend in December.

 

\--------

 

As they'd all danced and laughed and finally made significant progress decorating the tree together, Leila being taught the proper order in which it must be done (who knew decorating a Christmas tree had _rules?)_ , Henry grabbed the last ornament from its box, tossing the tissue paper at Emma's head as she followed Regina out of the room. As he placed it neatly towards the back of the tree, he walked around it, eyeing it with pride, nodding and grinning at the achievement until his eyes landed on the box against the wall behind them. "Hey, we forgot some!"

As he kneeled in front of it, Leila turned to see what he was talking about as surely the eight boxes they'd already gone through had to be everything. Tilting her head in recognition, she trotted over to him to see what was inside. "Oh yeah, I found that one in the back of all the rest by itself. Let's see what's inside."

Leila sat heavily on the floor beside the mysterious box, her legs tucked tightly beneath her, Henry right at her side to uncover its contents. Regina and Emma had disappeared into the kitchen to make popcorn for the impending movie marathon they planned. While Henry had no such notion, Leila knew better than to go looking for them, knowing exactly what she _didn't_ want to interrupt, and so she lifted the plastic cover off of the small box, revealing what appeared to be around a dozen delicate, hand-painted ornaments.

“What _are_ these?” Leila breathed reverently, reaching out to gingerly lift one from its protective casing. She knew, somehow, that these were different. They were an array of bright, beautiful colors and designs splashed across pearl white bulbs, each one the same at its core with a different design.

The first one she chose was etched with snowflakes in the palest blue, each one running into another and encapsulating the entire bulb. She replaced it softly to unearth another, this time the same pale, pearl background with a brilliantly bright sun painted over the majority of its surface.

“They're pretty,” Henry observed quietly, seemingly understanding the seriousness of the moment, though neither quite knew _why_.

“Beautiful,” Leila agreed, holding the sun close to her chest as she reached in again to retrieve a bulb depicting what she thought was the Northern Lights, vibrant blues and greens and purples swirling around one another endlessly over top sparkling, glittering snow.

"These should be on it too!"

"Henry, they don't exactly match, and besides, the box says "special", maybe they aren't supposed to be on this tree."

"No, they're too pretty to sit in a box, and ornaments don't have to match if they mean something to you." He emphasized his point by nestling a purple swirled bulb right smack in the middle of the tree and gestured to it animatedly. "See? It's perfect."

“I don't know…” Leila hesitated. Something didn't feel quite right about using them, and she felt that little bubble of discomfort build in her chest (Henry called it her superpower, and sometimes even blamed it on her “magic”,) but she always seemed to know when someone was lying, or when some sort of metaphorical bomb was about to be dropped on her. And something about the box of ornaments was really setting it off.

As Henry decided upon a second one of the hand-painted crafts, choosing to hang it a little higher this time, Regina walked back  into the room, followed by a brightly grinning Emma with arms full of snacks, and abruptly stopped as she recognized the box still in Leila’s lap. Her eyes swept towards the tree where Henry was observing his handiwork, her forehead wrinkling as she took a hesitant step forward. “Oh, Henry, no, those don't...those aren't for decorating the tree.”

“See? I told you,” Leila reprimanded gently, affecting her Big Sister voice in a way that made him roll his eyes in exasperation. “They're pretty, though, Regina. What _are_ they for?”

The brunette cleared her throat, moving forward stiffly to sit on the edge of a couch cushion, mere feet from where Leila was curled beneath the tree. She took a deep breath, the corners of her mouth turning up into a sad smile. “They're yours.”

“Wow.” Leila replied, “Well, they're nice, but you didn't have to get me special ornaments or anything.”

“No,” she shook her head, slipping down to the floor to sit beside the girl, the box now on the floor between them. “I painted them for you.”

“When did you have time to do that?” Leila asked incredulously, her fingers trailing delicately over the surface of the baubles left tucked into the box. “You've been insanely busy lately. And these are... _elaborate.”_

 _“_ They are,” Regina smiled that sad smile again, and as their eyes met, Leila felt her heart skip unnaturally at the peculiar shine in her mother’s gaze. “Like...this one.”

She delicately scooped up an ornament Leila hadn't looked at closely before, turning it over and over in her hands before depositing it softly into the palm Leila had reached out into the space between them without a thought, entranced by the soft, wistful tone of Regina’s voice. It was nothing extraordinary, a snowy, forest backdrop and a mother bat with her baby tucked closely to her side.

“This is from your third Christmas,” Regina explained, her voice thick and cracking with emotion on the last syllable. "That was a hard year for me. I spent a lot of time in bookstores reading children's books."

Leila looked at her skeptically, each snippet of information she received not quite adding up. "Why would you do that?"

"Because,” Regina sighed, leaning heavily against the couch she had just vacated, seemingly needing the support for the emotional upheaval she felt. “I missed you and wished I could be reading to _you._ I was barely nineteen then, living in an enormous city that still felt overwhelming and frightening.”

Leila gulped, turning her head away and to the side as she collected her rapidly shifting thoughts, her throat burning with reluctant anger. It made her irrationally, uncontrollably vexed every time she was reminded that they had spent her earliest years living within mere miles of one another. Regina’s fingers skimmed the edge of the container of ornaments absently, her eyes unfocused as she found she couldn't quite meet her daughter’s gaze, either.

“So I went to read anyway,” Regina continued in a near-whisper, clearing her throat quietly. “This ornament is of my favorite book, _Stellaluna_. I think I'd always hoped you'd find your way back to me like she did to her mother."

"You painted the storybook onto this ornament?"

"Some of it, yes. It helped me get through the misery of your absence. Gave me something to do with my hands."

"How...how many are there?"

"One for--" she sighed softly, painfully. "for every Christmas we've been apart."

Leila looked up then, a look of astonishment so plainly painted across her face that it made Regina reach out a tentative hand to brush the backs of her fingers across her cheek in a familiar, reassuring gesture; one she retracted sharply at the way Leila flinched with the implication of her touch.

“How _could_ you?” Leila lashed out, harsh tears rolling down her face so suddenly it surprised both of them. “How could you just sit around _missing_ me and painting ornaments and writing letters and...and feeling sorry for yourself? Like it was all so hard for _you?”_

_"Leila."_

"No!” She crossed her arms, wrapping them around herself for protection as she allowed her most burning question to finally, _finally_ escape in little more than a whisper, her eyes meeting her mother’s with a burning intensity. “Did you ever even look for me?”

“Honey,” Regina hesitated, appearing as though she’d been swiftly kicked in the stomach.

“Where were you?” The girl pressed on, demanding and stern. “You never wondered what happened? If I was even _okay?_ ”

“Of course I wondered! But I was assured you would be adopted right away,” Regina implored, swallowing harshly against the growing lump in her throat. It had escalated to a place so deep, so scarred, more quickly than she could have anticipated, and her body reeled in its attempt to catch up with her unbridled emotions. “That there was a family waiting to take you home--”

“There wasn't.” Leila interrupted, shaking her head as she got to her feet, increasing the distance between where she stood and where Regina gently pushed off from the floor in response to her motion, settling awkwardly, primly, once more on the couch beside their brightly lit, twinkling Christmas tree, the box of ornaments forgotten on the floor between them. “There _never_ was. No one _ever_ took me home. No one ever _wanted_ me. Do you get that?”

Regina gently swiped a tear from beneath her eye, roving her gaze to the ceiling as she bit her lip, doing her best to collect the right words, though she knew there could be none. “ _I_ wanted you, but I thought..I thought I was doing the right thing for you.”

“You were doing the right thing for _you_ ,” Leila breathed, trembling with anger she hadn't even realized she’d been bottling for the last six months (and for years, as many years as she could actively remember of her lonely existence.) She was vaguely aware of Emma hovering uncomfortably somewhere to her right, pacing ever so slowly in an attempt to give them space yet remain supportive to them both; it was a course of action so _Emma_ that it made her both grateful and uncomfortable all at once. Her tone turned scathing as she thought of Regina carrying along with her life, and of herself as a forgotten, unwanted toddler and then child and then teenager. “What about when we were both older? When you graduated college? Law school?”

“Kid, she thought you had a family,” Emma interjected fairly, coming to a halt as she offered her opinion, arms outstretched non-threateningly. “She wouldn't have wanted to--”

“Don't,” Regina insisted quietly, offering the blonde a grateful look accompanied by a thin-lipped smile, gesturing towards the girl cautiously. Henry had moved to the couch adjacent to them some time in the middle of the outburst, looking for all the world like he wanted to be anywhere else. Leila glanced at him then, her chest tingling with the tiniest sensation of guilt at losing it in front of him. But then her gaze returned to the ornaments, mocking her with their beauty and detail and _significance_. To Regina, who silently waited for more of her wrath, believing wholeheartedly that she deserved it every bit that Leila did.

“You did all these things for me ‘because we were apart’ when you could have just had the memories _with_ me or tried to find me and neither of us would have had to suffer."

Regina flinched, turning her head away with closed eyes and a grim nod of agreement. Her heart had grown accustomed to Leila's acceptance of the past and her willingness to start over as of late. She'd let her words sting again and it brought burning, white-hot tears to her eyes. She hadn't meant for Leila to find out like this. But she nodded again anyway, absorbing the girl's anger and allowing it to be thrown at her. "You're right. Merely keeping you would have been the answer to both our prayers."

"Yeah, it would have. But you didn't. And you can't just..." She floundered for the right words with an incredulous, rueful laugh as she squirmed away from her, away from the stifling space they shared. “You can never fix it. It will _never_ be okay.”

At Regina's dejected look and Emma's obviously growing desire to interject, Leila took off towards her room, wiping away tears of her own as she ran up the stairs and beelined it to her bedroom, away from Regina, away from the feelings and the claustrophobia that always followed them.

Regina cleared her throat, lifting her head in an attempt to ward off her impending tears. Emma moved towards her immediately, but the brunette stilled her with a hand, tightly crossing her legs and squaring her shoulders, painting on a small smile as Henry eyed her cautiously. She closed her eyes tightly as Emma turned to fight awkwardly with a lopsided string of lights on the tree.

Henry eyed them both curiously, not sure where Leila's outburst had come from, but not liking what it did to Regina. How much _pain_ his sister had inflicted upon her with such ease. He rose, gently moving to sit next to her on the edge of her chair, placing a soft palm onto the top of her knee. "She didn't mean it, you know."

It was more of a statement than a question and she turned to look at him with blurry eyes that made his heart ache a little. "She loves you." With that, he nodded firmly and wrapped his arms around Regina, hoping that he could bring some comfort to her that Leila had slashed away with her words. "And so do I. I'm sorry she was so mean to you."

Regina hesitated, but then hugged him back fiercely, choking back a sob into his hair as he squeezed tighter around her body. She wished she could explain how much every word Leila threw against her was warranted. It was a guilt she'd never escape. But with Henry wrapped around her in a comforting embrace, an old-world understanding to him so far beyond his mere ten years, Regina decided to be selfish at least one more time and accept his reassurances. "I love you too, Henry."

 

\--------

 

She paced in her room after she'd slammed the door behind her, wincing slightly at the childish nature of it all. The outburst snuck up on her, and it had become the only thing she could focus on. Not all the good that had come from finding her mother, from gaining Emma and Henry, and finally having a _family_ to call her own. It was easy to fall into the promise of their future together. Easy to _forget_ all the years she'd spent desperate and alone, crying, wishing, feeling so alone and hopeless she'd rather have just not existed at all. And just when she could focus on all the good of now, she was reminded that Regina _had_ wanted her; had painted beautiful ornaments in her memory and written...letters.

She'd written her letters.

They'd been sitting forgotten in her nightstand since her first night there. They'd made her uncomfortable in her first few days and she hadn't had the courage to read them, even when she’d been reminded of their existence recently, because she didn't want to let Regina off the hook on the off chance they'd contained anything that would absolve all her pain. But this _pain_ she felt now, she didn't want. She didn't want to hate her mother for not being there. She _understood_ now, but apparently there was a part of her bubbling under the surface that wouldn't stop no matter how hard she tried to contain it.

She quickly turned the lock on her door, not wanting Regina to try to _make this better_ by coming into her room with that _look_ she had and all the love in the world that would just be too much right now. She plopped onto her bed, reaching down to pull the drawer from the nightstand, and picked up the handful of letters tied neatly together in purple ribbon. _So Regina,_ she thought. Making everything elegant and beautiful and precise.

She thumbed through a few, placing them gently next to her as she came to the first, pulling it out of the envelope and unfolding the parchment. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the onslaught of emotions that she was sure would accompany the written words. She looked down, Regina's elegant penmanship almost dancing in its beauty. She began, unable to stop herself from affecting Regina’s warm, lilting voice to the narration in her head:

 

 

> _My dear, sweet little one,_
> 
> _Happy birthday! Just as for you, I have been changed in this instant, thrust into a world I cannot quite understand. A scary world where I am a mother, but I am without my child. The moment you were born, tiny hands and a pair of the bluest eyes I've ever seen, I knew that I was lost for you to find, that while we may never be together, maybe one day you'll reunite us. I will become the best version of myself, for you, so that if you ever do find me, I will be ready. I will be someone you could be proud of._
> 
> _It's strange that you are suddenly this whole tiny, person and that you're breathing and crying and_ **_needing_ ** _so much already. Words cannot express the agony I feel over not being the person who gets to fulfill those needs and watch you grow. I've named you in my head little one, but I will not share it with you on these pages for your light now glows in the eyes of others who will nurture it and teach you how to shine for the world to see._
> 
> _When I picture you, after only a small glimpse before they whisked you away, my life makes sense. I was born to bring you into this world. Born to give you the gift of life so you may share it with the world. You are a treasure, dear one. Please, my hope for you, is that you never let your light extinguish. Never let someone snuff you out. Never be afraid to love who you are. Never forget that even the moon shines bright for all to see in the darkest hours. Be the sun and the moon. I will look to them and think of you and dream of all the wonderful things you're becoming._
> 
> _I will write to you, little one. I will keep you in my heart always._
> 
> _Happy birthday, beautiful girl._
> 
> _I love you, endlessly._

 

It was too much. Tears filled her eyes as she wiped at them angrily. It was clear Regina had wanted so much for her. Wanted an entire life filled with everything and everyone but _her_ . She couldn't accept it. Couldn't allow the words to let her mother off the hook. Yet, she couldn't believe a sixteen-year-old girl had written something so heartfelt and raw with emotion. The sentiments were lovely and sweet and she could _feel_ the love dripping off the page, but she had still given her away. There could be no excuse great enough to heal that wound. But she read on, hopeful at least a little, allowing a barely older than herself Regina to try.

 

> _Today would have been your first birthday and I wish so desperately that I could be there to show you how much I love you. To watch your chubby little fists as they eat birthday cake for the first time…"_

 

Leila thought ruefully of the family who had done that very thing to celebrate her first birthday, delightedly taking photo upon photo of her gleeful reactions. They'd kept her for three years, the most blissful time in Leila’s life before they'd found out her foster mother was pregnant and then had given her back over to the system, preferring their nuclear, natural family now that it had become possible. She scoffed, skimming over the rest of Regina’s words on the first page in the bunch.

  

> _I don’t know if you’ll ever read this, but I love you. I always will._
> 
>  

She quickly turned to the next letter, hoping against hope to somehow prove herself _right_ , that a young Regina had tossed her away without a second thought. It had been her narrative throughout her life, the belief to which she clung in order to rectify her anger with her mother’s actions. But the more she read, the harder it became not to picture a young, burdened Regina, love overflowing from her every pore, a mother separated from her child.

 

> _Today is your second birthday! I don’t know much about two year olds, unfortunately. I had hoped to learn along with you, but as you’ll someday learn, I wanted what was best for you. I wanted to give you a family. One thing you’ll never understand is what it’s like to have a parent who doesn’t love you. Who_ **_can’t_ ** _love you. It’s more pain than I’d ever wish on you. I'd never wish my mother on you._

 

No, Leila thought to herself, she understood exactly what that was like. Because, she presumed, having a parent who didn't love her would have to have felt much like not having one _at all._

  

> _I’m sure you’re walking all over and getting into so much trouble. Explore the world around you. Play in the grass. Pet a soft puppy. Give lots of kisses. Be good to your parents, sweet girl. I know they love you just as much as I do._

 

And then, just as soon as she’d become surly and sarcastic within her own mind, something so sweet and earnest and _Regina_ burst through, causing the corners of her eyes to prick with new tears, just as she’d dried the last ones. She debated throwing them all back into her nightstand, never to be acknowledged again, but her curiosity about what might lie ahead couldn't be sated.

 

> _Today makes three. I can’t believe it’s been that long since I gazed down at your little face. I sometimes go to bookstores and look through the children's section and pick out books that I would love to get to read to you. I sit in the little chairs and read through them in my head._

 

So it was true, she thought, the bookstore thing and the ornament and _Stellaluna._ Even Regina couldn't have come up with something so honest on the spot, but this was further proof that her mother had been thinking of her in every way for as long as she’d wanted her to.

 

> _I know it’s not the same, but I do think about you often. I can’t believe how fast you’re growing. Stay my little girl forever._

 

With harsh fingers, she flipped through the remaining pages, skimming them for the most important parts, shifting gears incessantly as she wavered between wanting to drink in every classically penned word and needing a break from the deluge of emotion and feeling and _love_ coursing through her against her will.

 

> _You're turning seven today, and I can't believe it's been so long since I last saw you. I think of you in my head, of course, as "my little one," but sometimes I can't help but wonder what name you've been given. It's beautiful, I'm sure of that, just like you. One day when you go to college, I hope you pick a field that you’re passionate about. I wanted to become a historian or a veterinarian but my mother said they weren't “practical” for the real world and insisted that I become a lawyer. Today I’m doing just that. I would never tell you what you had to be, little one, always follow your dreams, even if they take you down a path others aren’t sure about._

 

Her seventh birthday had been a particularly lonely one. She’d moved into a new foster home a mere two days previously, one of the most crowded homes she ever inhabited, and no one had remembered it. Summer birthdays always seemed to be acknowledged the least because they happened over summer vacation from school, but when neither her foster parents nor any of her “siblings” offered a wish for a happy birthday, she had swiped a lone, pre-packaged snack cake from a cupboard and retreated to her bed, closing her eyes and wishing upon the non-existent candle for her mom, for anyone, to find her. And there Regina had been, likely studying law at Yale if her mental calculations were correct, thinking of her; but they might as well have been on separate planes of existence for all the good it had done for either of them.

This was only serving to make her feel worse, as she recalled multiple scenarios she’d spent years trying to bury, and she was _really_ about to stuff the letters as a whole into the drawer of her nightstand again when the date of another at the bottom of the stack caught her eye. It was dated for September of 2006, nowhere near her birthday, and it intrigued her enough to relax back into her pillows and continue reading as she settled beneath the thick comforter, the safety of her self-created cocoon making it easier to continue the emotionally-taxing endeavor.

 

> _Today isn’t your birthday as I’m sure you know, but I’ve found some cathartic release in writing these letters to you. I don’t know if that’s my right, if I deserve a sense of peace about you, but I know you’ll never read these so I guess a moment of being free from the guilt is okay. Today, I found a contract my mother drew up arranging my marriage and future children to a man named Robin._
> 
> _I was barked at, manipulated, guilted, made to feel ashamed, made to feel like everything about myself was controlled and molded into what my mother wanted. I’ve never told you why I gave you up, my darling girl. It’s because of her. I knew that she would potentially see you as something terrible and damning, a problem that needed to be solved; or she would use you as a pawn as she did with me my whole life. I couldn't do that to you._
> 
> _While she was away, I told only one person the truth, the only friend I really had, a lovely girl named Tinkerbell. Even though I didn’t have the right, I made her your godmother because she kept you safe by keeping my secret._

> _There are so many things I wish I could teach you. That I could warn you about._
> 
> _That I could protect you from._
> 
> _I’m sorry to unload all of this on you, little love. Sometimes, I’m not quite sure where else to turn. Thank you for listening._

 

She dropped the letter as though it had burned her, the new information churning and filling in the spaces left by Regina’s few stories over the last six months. She knew, logistically, the basics of what Regina believed to be her inescapable fate with Robin (at least, it seemed, until recently.) She knew the smallest amount about how Regina felt concerning her own mother, Cora, and her stomach dropped at every reminder that she was the largest reason why Regina had chosen adoption.

Tinkerbell. She'd met her several times but the woman had always kept a distance from her. Perhaps it was because she _knew_ , or perhaps she just didn't want get involved, but as she thought back to her blow up and the letters and her mother's tearful, pained eyes, she knew she needed _someone_ to talk to about it. And the someone -- the _only_ one -- her mother had confided in about her seemed to fill that void. Someone on the outside, but also still on the inside.

She pulled out her phone and typed a quick message to the woman, asking her if she was in town and able to meet her at Granny's. Emma had offhandedly given her Tink's number in case Ruby wasn't home and she needed to get into the loft (as if it wouldn't already be unlocked), but she was glad to have it. She was relieved when a prompt response of " _Of course, meet in thirty?"_ arrived and a weight lifted from her shoulders. Finally, she could talk about the situation without the longing, sad looks and the unspoken 'I love yous' and the weight of a lifetime of pain laced behind every word.

She crept down the stairs, grabbing a jacket and hat from the hall closet, careful not to step on the spot in the entryway that creaked like a bowling ball had been rolled over it and silently exited the mansion. She turned to look through the window at the side of the house from the sidewalk, Regina furiously baking or washing or doing _something_ with her hands as she always did when she felt things she couldn't express. And as much as she wished she could slip away into the dusk without so much as a word to her parents, she sent a quick text to Emma letting her know she was going to meet with Tinkerbell and talk things out --alone-- and asked for some space by not telling Regina. Emma told her she wasn't happy she was sneaking out, but that she understood and to let her know if she needed a ride back and not to be later than ten.

Leila sighed gratefully as she stopped to read the short message before pocketing her phone and setting off in the direction of the diner, ready for some space and to maybe, hopefully, finally get some answers.

 

\--------

 

“Do you think we should go in there?” Henry cautioned, glancing over his shoulder at the doorway through which Regina had swiftly exited, accompanied by flimsy reasoning as to why she very suddenly, and spontaneously, simply _needed_ to bake a batch of miniature apple turnovers.

Emma tilted her head to one side, regarding him in curious contemplation. “No, I think we should probably leave her alone with her feelings for a while, don't you?”

"But Leila was so _mean_ to her. And she looked so...sad."

"They like to punish each other for something that was neither of their fault.” Emma explained gently with a sigh, moving swiftly across the room to fall heavily into the couch cushions beside him, swinging her legs up to cross at the ankles and rest on the coffee table. She turned her head to face him, offering Henry a small, reassuring smile.”Leila lashes out at her and Regina blames herself so deeply already she just takes it. I thought they'd worked through it after the last time but…"

She shrugged, the end of her explanation fading away as they sat in companionable, contemplative silence, simultaneously feeling at home and yet still guests on the outside of a tense familial bubble. Emma was relieved to finally be with Henry again, parenting him, just spending _time_ with him. Regina’s house had slowly become home to both of them, and Emma was just about to suggest they choose a Christmas movie on their own, to give the Mills women their space, when Henry suddenly perked up, the unmistakable sign that he’d had an idea.

"Dominoes."

Emma’s brow furrowed, her hands folding gently over her stomach as he excitedly shuffled in his seat to rest on his knees, turning in to face her as the momentum bounced him slightly in place. "Huh?"

"They take up a lot of space, and I think we'd need the length of the kitchen table to play. We could just...I bet I could kick your butt."

Emma squinted at him suspiciously as he nodded with wide eyes waiting for her to connect the dots. She smiled slowly, the pieces connecting in her brain; her sneaky, big hearted little man knew exactly what Regina needed without having to be told. Company without suffocation. A distraction. As she nodded gamely, sharing with Henry a conspiratorial smirk, they jumped up simultaneously: Emma, to head into the kitchen as she high fived him, and Henry to shuffle on socked feet towards Regina's study to get the game.

She arrived moments later, approaching hesitantly at first. She could the hear mixer whirring in the background, but otherwise, silence. Leave it to Regina to be a _quiet_ emotional baker. She knocked on the doorframe so as not to scare the brunette, walking over to her and stopping before she attempted to touch her. She wasn't sure _what_ she'd need. In her (admittedly) limited experience, sometimes it was physical comfort, sometimes distance, sometimes distractions. It was all about gauging her mood.

Emma placed a tentative hand at the small of her back, rubbing her thumb just under the hem of her sweater, letting her know she was there for her, but not going to suffocate her. Regina turned to smile at her thinly, briefly, her eyes shining with guilt and sorrow, but said nothing as she kneaded dough furiously against the cool, marble countertop. Emma deflated, leaning back on her heels with a sigh of acceptance, and made her way to the table to sit with Henry not far behind her as he ran into the room and placed the tin on the table to set up the game.

Regina glanced up silently at the interruption, eyeing them both with suspicion. Neither looked at her, simply laughed and spoke in hushed phrases regarding the game and rules and wagering something she couldn't quite pick up on. She cleared her throat gently, but only Henry even acknowledged it with a sideways glance before returning his attention to the pile of dominoes on the table in front of him.

“I know what you're doing,” Regina chided quietly, tugging open a drawer to find her favorite, sleek French rolling pin. She gave them both an accusatory, yet playful glare as she began to roll out the dough as thinly as possible.

“We don't know what you're talking about,” Emma shrugged casually, not even glancing her way as Henry pushed one of his pieces up against hers. But Henry was less adept at hiding things than his mother, though he tried, and the sympathetic smile he sent her way when Emma contemplated her next move seriously made Regina’s eyes burn with a surge of affectionate tears, and she was forever thankful for it. Long ago she'd have locked herself up in her room and cried _silent_ tears while she watched some sappy, sad black and white movie or turned on Norah Jones and mellowed herself into a slumber. But having a lively, happy home was much better for her now. If only that comfortable, reassuring noise was made up of Leila, too.

But as much as she wished she could rewind the last hour and continue basking in the happiness that has surrounded them all afternoon, she knew there were wounds that she would never be able to heal; scars that, for Leila, burned and ached with fresh fervor. And if it was space that she needed, then that was what Regina would give her.

She smiled wholeheartedly and continued with her baking, basking in the comfortable familiarity that having Henry and Emma _home_ brought her.

 

\--------

 

Leila had never even realized that there was another room to Granny’s diner beyond the main one filled with booths and small tables until she hesitantly entered in the middle of the dinner rush, glancing around the room for her companion. Ruby looked up from pouring a bottle of beer into a frosted mug for a guest at a table at the sound of the bell jingling above the door to signify her entrance.

“She’s in the back,” Ruby informed her pointedly with a small jerk of her head towards the space behind and to the right of the service counter, to an open doorway Leila realized she had never quite noticed before. But, she supposed, she was usually too singularly focused on waiting for her French fries and hot coffee to arrive. Speaking of which…

“Hey, Ruby,” she began eagerly, thinking regretfully of whatever snacks she was missing at home; she licked her lips hungrily and said, “Can I please have--”

“I ordered the fries when Tink said you were coming,” the brunette replied knowingly, tucking the small beverage tray she carried against her hip with a wink as Leila sagged in relief, her stomach grumbling grumpily at the prospect of food. “I'll bring them to you in a few.”

“Thanks,” she sighed gratefully, and allowed Ruby to return to her work as she crossed the room swiftly, bypassing the curious stares of various couples and families as she moved through them. She never understood why she seemed to be _noticed_ so much in this town after years of feeling utterly invisible.

The back room turned out to be nothing more than a pool table and a few dart boards, with one tall bar-top table and two raised stools. She didn't think she would have such a reaction to seeing her… _godmother_ , now, she supposed; they had met and been around one another several times before, but never with the weight of what Leila now knew the woman had shared with Regina.  

But there she was, dressed head-to-toe in stretchy, comfortable black yoga gear, a pair of ballet flats on her feet and unruly blonde hair piled neatly atop her head, looking every bit the pixie for whom she was named. She hunched stealthily over the edge of the pool table, the stick poised to break the collection of brightly colored balls arranged neatly in a triangle.

“What's up?” Leila ventured, earning her a quick glance before Tink propelled the cue ball powerfully towards the others, breaking the formation with a significant _crack_ as they launched in all directions. She leaned back, wrapping both hands loosely around the pool stick as she watched a purple ball sink into a corner pocket with a satisfying _plunk._

“Do you play?” She inquired curiously, answering the question with a question of her own. Leila shrugged, shoving her hands into the front pockets of her jeans with shoulders hunched forward as she moved closer, the fingers of one hand coming out to drag softly over the green surface of the table.

“I can,” she offered, searching the wall with her eyes for the additional cue sticks. As she zeroed in on the set, she moved towards them, choosing the shortest one in a move that obviously surprised the other blonde, if indicated by the quirked brow in response.

“What? I'm small,” Leila explained, twirling the stick gently between her fingers. She didn't know exactly how to start, and there was so much on her mind. But the two of them had never really been alone together, much less spoken about anything of a serious nature, and they both knew she hadn’t summoned Tink there on her first Friday of winter break for the hell of it.

“Do you want a drink?” Her godmother offered suddenly, and Leila snorted at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“I'm underage.”

It would by no means be her first drink, Leila reasoned as she contemplated the offer. She’d subsisted on bar snacks and weekend pool tournaments for extra cash over the last year and a half in Boston, slipping in and out behind bouncers who never seemed to notice her.

“And?” Tink laughed jovially, holding up two fingers to Ruby through the wide doorway to the main dining area, who nodded and circled the counter to fulfill the order. “What, do you want a _toy_ with it?”

Now Tink was just goading her, and there was no part of Leila that could conceive of backing down.

“A beer would be great,” she challenged, and Tink grinned her amused approval. She had never been great with children, she knew, but she remembered being sixteen. And if she had wanted to get away from her parents, the first thing she would have sought was an icy, cold beer too.

“So,” Tink continued conversationally, stepping around the corner of the table to come slightly closer to the girl she knew so feebly. “to what do I owe the pleasure of this impromptu Friday night date?”

She said it with a pleased twinkle in her eye, and Leila smiled softly in response, looking down and away, her eyes squinting as she contemplated her explanation. Just then, Ruby breezed through the doorway, depositing a frosted glass into each of their hands with a lightly bubbling, amber liquid before exiting just as swiftly.

“Cheers,” Tink suggested, lifting her glass out into the space between them to _clink_ against Leila’s own briefly before each took a hearty gulp.

“Fucking ginger ale,” Tink complained, her face screwing up in confusion as she placed the glass heavily onto the nearby table, followed quickly by Leila.

“Maybe Ruby isn't as much a fan of underage drinking as you are,” Leila suggested sarcastically, still not entirely sure they'd have gotten away with it in the first place. Her mother was the mayor, after all, and she assumed that meant she’d never be able to get up to the same sort of trouble she’d stirred before moving to Storybrooke.

“Oh, trust me, that's not the case at _all_ ,” Tink laughed, rolling her eyes at the implication. “Keep in mind it wasn't that long ago that _we_ were sixteen, too.”

“Yeah, speaking of which,” Leila began hesitantly, reclaiming her glass and taking another long swig of the bubbly beverage. “I asked you to meet me because...I wanted to ask you some questions. About my mom.”

Tinkerbell sighed, leaning against the cue stick as she regarded the girl curiously. She may not have been close to Regina for the last many years, but she still held what had been shared so intimately between them as one of her most guarded secrets. Regina had trusted her implicitly, and Tink had never betrayed that trust. “What kind of questions?”

“I know you were the only person she told...about me.” Leila explained awkwardly, shuffling one foot back and forth, her lips pulled into a grim, thin-lipped smile. “I just want to know more about that time, you know?”

“I don't know, kiddo,” she replied slowly, a corner of her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she contemplated the girl’s admission. “That's some pretty heavy stuff. I've never talked to anyone about it. Swore to Regina I never would.”

“I'll play you for it,” Leila challenged suddenly, nodding towards the table beside them earnestly, and the older blonde smiled to herself at the striking resemblance she bore to her mother in that moment. “For every ball I get in, you answer one of my questions.”

“Huh,” Tink considered, her eyes rolling upwards in thought. She supposed it wouldn't be a direct betrayal of Regina’s trust. This _was_ her daughter, after all. She couldn't reveal any more of her friend’s secret to the girl than the fact that she _was_ the secret itself. “ _If_ you manage to get any of them in, I'll think about answering your questions. You've got stripes.”

“Deal,” Leila agreed, surveying the table for her best option. She measured across the length of one ball to another, before swiftly knocking one of Tink’s into her own and propelling it into a side pocket easily. Tinkerbell’s brows shot upwards in surprise, their little game already off to a running start. However, an overconfident Leila fumbled nervously with her shot as she revealed her first question, turning the ball over to Tink reluctantly.

“So, apparently my mom made you my godmother or something?”

The woman stopped abruptly from where she was arranging the ball carefully to regard her with surprised, wide eyes. Her face softened gently once the girl’s words sunk in and a small, genuine smile crossed her face.

"Oh?" Her next move went awry, and Leila quietly relished the fact that she didn't seem to be the only affected, nervous one of the two of them.

"Yeah. Nine ball, corner pocket.” Leila called, before sinking the shot exactly as she’d predicted with a smug cock to her eyebrow.

Tinkerbell nodded her approval, exhaling deeply as she watched Leila calculate her next move. She had always _felt_ connected to both Regina and her baby, the little bundle of soft blankets and sweet cries never quite escaping the back of her mind. To know that the brunette would have made her Leila's godmother? She felt honored in a way she wasn't sure she could properly express. “So, what does that mean to you?"

"I don't know, I've never...had anyone before.” She shrugged, their eyes meeting across the table. “To look out for me."

"There are a lot of us here that care about you."

The declaration hung heavily between them for a few moments; Leila knew that it was true, of course, but it was still difficult for her to admit aloud, even in agreement with someone else.

"It's just a little overwhelming.” She allowed, smiling brightly as Ruby rushed through once more to drop a delightfully greasy, steaming basket of French fries on the table beside her drink. She popped one into her mouth, immediately regretting it the moment her tongue met the scalding snack. “Regina wants to be my mom and Henry has become my brother and Emma -- I don't know what Emma is, kind of my mom too? I have this whole new family and I'm scared I'm going to --" she faltered, taking a deep breath as she shrugged as Tink casually looked up at her from her shot, clearly trying to give her some space.

"To lose them if you get too comfortable."

"Yes." She nodded, watching in dismay as Tink sunk another two balls in rapid succession. She was losing, and she _never_ lost a game. But at least it seemed the conversation had opened enough between them that it didn't matter who won or lost; she was getting the answers she had come for, whether she liked it or not.

"You won't, you know.” Tink assured her, slowly moving around the side of the table to swipe a fry from the basket, giving her an apologetic glance as she popped it into her mouth. “Especially not Regina. She loves harder and more fiercely than anyone I've ever met. And she's loved you that same way since the day she found out about you, that won't change."

"That makes no sense!"

"Why not?"

"Because she threw me away!” Leila argued vehemently; it was the belief to which she clung desperately, that no amount of explanation seemed to be able to alter for her. “She left me alone in a terrible world with nobody to save me and she didn't even try to find me or see if I was okay."

Her breath caught in her chest as she choked on the last word. She hated the way her emotions got away from her, and she turned away to swipe an angry tear from beneath her eye. She hoped it would be the last time her body would betray her for the evening.

Tinkerbell tilted her head to the side,one eye squinted as she fixed the girl with a hard stare. It was time for the tough love. "How old are you, Leila?"

"Sixteen.” She replied automatically, and scoffed at the knowing look the other blonde gave her at her reply. “So, what?"

"What if you'd never found your mom here and you'd gotten knocked up six months ago?” She suggested casually, once more leaning over to take a shot and missing her mark. She looked up again, taking in Leila’s indignant, defensive expression. She continued simply, “Would you be able to raise a child?"

She thought long and hard about the question. Sure, she'd love the baby, but she could barely feed herself before she found Storybrooke and Regina, and had no idea what being a real mother meant ( _because mine abandoned me_ ) and couldn't imagine supporting another life with nothing. "I mean, no, but I grew up without a mom and never had the riches Regina did. _She_ could have taken care of a baby."

"You think you're grown up enough to have a kid?” Tink pressed, her arms crossing over her chest with a challenging, quirked brow. “Teach it all the things it needs to know? Buy it all the things it needs to _survive?_ If you popped one out right here, screaming, pooping, never sleeping, you'd know what to do? You'd give it a good life?"

"I mean, I don't know, no? But---"

"She was the same age as you and didn't _really_ have a mother either, Leila. And she was rich, sure, but if your grandmother had found out about you she'd have completely cut Regina off and probably kicked the both of you to the curb for tarnishing her family name. What kind of life would that be for you?"

Leila sputtered, her chest aching under the pressure of the fictional scenario. "But if she'd loved me we could have--"

"What? Lived on the street together? Grown up together? Babies raising babies?" She scoffed at Leila's childish ideals. It was easy to think Regina had it all because her family was wealthy, but Tink _knew_ what trouble that money came with and the mother who surrounded it all. She raised her eyes and placed the pool stick on the table momentarily. None of this had been fair to her friend. And it was time the girl knew it. "Have you met Regina? She'd rather give you to a family who would love you unconditionally and have the means to raise you in the life you deserved than worry about her own happiness. She was _devastated_. She cried constantly for two years. I was there."

"But I grew up on the street anyway.” Leila insisted harshly, her eyes glinting with renewed fervor as she squared off against her godmother, the few feet between them charged with tense energy, the game forgotten on the pool table beside them. “Alone. At least I could have been with my mother."

"She met your adoptive parents, you know.” Tinkerbell informed her quietly, her eyes searching the girl’s gaze as she processed the information, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. “Interviewed them and picked them out specifically because she knew you'd grow up to be someone special under their care. They were at the hospital ready and waiting to take you home."

"No--that's not--that can't be true.” She shook her head, taking a small step back, needing the space to feel and breathe and _think._ “She's never told me that. What--what happened?"

"I have no idea, and neither does she. And of _course_ she wouldn't tell you. She feels so guilty that she'd let you say anything to her if it meant easing some of _your_ pain."

She hadn't spoken to Regina in more than passing since she’d become so present in Emma’s everyday life, because she chased work and opportunity so far beyond Storybrooke so often, but she still knew Regina better than almost anyone else, and at the core of who Regina was as a person, Tinkerbell knew she’d take every ounce of blame a thousand times over if any part of her thought it would make Leila feel better.

She watched as the girl winced, suddenly aware how _good_ of a mother Regina actually was to her, even though she felt like she kind of didn't deserve it. "You can imagine her horror when she learned you'd never been adopted."

Leila opened her mouth to speak, but for the first time, nothing came out. No insults. No blame. No harsh words trying to impose guilt. She wanted to say, _she still should have looked for me or checked up on me_. But she couldn't say the words. They no longer felt fair or right.

"Look, kiddo,” Tink sighed, reaching out to clap a palm on Leila’s shoulder, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I'm sorry you had a shit life. I wish I could have been your fairy godmother and popped in and saved you, but that's not how the real world works. Today, _right now_ , you have a mother with more love to give you than you know what to do with. And she's right here with her arms open and desperately hoping you'll love her back. Isn't this what you've always dreamed of?"

"I mean, yeah, but..."

"You've got to stop punishing her and _yourself_ for the past. Loving her now doesn't mean forgetting how you grew up. It also doesn't mean you're going to lose her." She paused, smiling at the girls dumbfounded look. "It's your shot."

And suddenly, the game was back on; the heaviest moment between them had passed, and the older blonde lightened the mood by failing spectacularly at her next move, causing a reluctant smile to crack across Leila’s mouth before growing somber and contemplative once more.

"I don't _want_ to be angry with her."

"So don't be."

She contemplated that as she made her shot, the eleven ball smoothly rolling into the middle pocket. _So don't be_ . Was it that simple? Could she just let everything go? Such a large part of her _identity_ was that she'd been abandoned and had grown up alone. What did it mean for her if she was no longer alone? What would she have left without her anger?

She'd have a family and be loved and wanted. Everything she'd ever dreamed of.

"It's that simple?"

"Why not?” Tink replied, leaning away from the pool table to steal a few more fries, chewing them thoughtfully before asking her next, pointed question. “Do you love Regina?"

Leila was suddenly, surprisingly, offended at the question. _Of course_ she loved her mother. Even if it had taken her a little while to admit it to herself and to Regina.

"What kind of a question is that?"

"One that makes you think." Tink grinned, stretching her arms above her head casually and rolling her neck to stretch her limbs. Playing pool always made her tense, and the serious nature of the conversation didn't help matters.

"Well, it's rude." Leila huffed haughtily, and Tinkerbell couldn't hold back her laughter at how _Regina_ she looked just then.

"You still haven't answered it though."

"Of course I love her!” She burst out defensively. “She's--amazing. I've never known someone like her. When she smiles I feel like I've finally done something right. Like all I want to do is make her happy because she makes _me_ happy." She looked down, fidgeting with one of the balls in the corner pocket. "Like I've missed out on so much happiness without her."

"And that's why you're still so angry with her? Because of what you _could_ have had?"

"I mean, I guess."

"Regina is who she is now because she wanted to be the _best_ version of herself in case you found her someday. She wanted you to be proud of her. She worked _so_ hard as punishment for giving you away. And if she had had a baby, _you_ , she wouldn't be able to give you the life you're living now."

She'd read that in the letters, of course. She knew Regina wanted to do and be the good in the world for her, but she _had_ grown accustomed--quickly-- to Regina's posh life. The big house. The abundance of gifts. The stocked kitchen and the home cooked meals. Had Regina not been through what she had, not been able to grow up and become someone, maybe Leila wouldn't have been able to stay with her now. Maybe, even after she'd found Regina, there would be no way for her to care for her or take her in so easily as she did.

"Do you doubt that she loves you?"

She answered without hesitation. "I never have. It was a little suffocating at first, and I didn't know if I knew how to trust it. Trust her. Sometimes it still _is_ suffocating."

"You're allowed to feel that way. Especially because you've relied so heavily in the past on yourself. But it's okay to love her and be with her and be happy about it. It's not going to be ripped out from under you. If you _want_ this life, take it."

Another moment of heavy silence fell between them, and then without warning, Leila surged forward and threw her arms around Tinkerbell’s neck in a bone-crushing hug. It startled them both, but especially Leila, who was still not particularly fond of physically displaying affection. But Tinkerbell, without ever having done it before, had swooped in and become exactly what Leila needed her to be.

Fairy godmother indeed.

As Tink awkwardly patted her shoulder, obviously not a huge fan of physical contact either, Leila pulled away, clearing her throat as she turned from the other woman to chug down the rest of her (now) flat, cool drink.

“Thank you,” she expressed earnestly, offering a bright, happy grin at the little salute Tinkerbell gave her in return.

“Anytime,” she replied easily, hefting her pool cue against the table to line up her last shot before only the eight ball was left. “What are...godmothers for?”

Her face lit up at her own reference to her newly discovered position in Leila’s life, which made the girl feel warm in the same way Regina, or Emma, or Henry could do for her. It was true, she knew; there were so many people who cared about her.

She sighed internally, her mind drifting to the furiously baking Regina she had left behind a few hours previously, more than likely now halfway through detailed stress-cleaning of the kitchen in her absence. She could only hope that Emma had come through and kept her outing a secret. Which reminded her…

“Shit,” she breathed, checking the time on the screen of her phone as she lifted it from her jacket pocket. It was quarter to ten, and she had very little time to get home before Emma _would_ undoubtedly inform Regina of her whereabouts. She glanced up apologetically as she typed out a quick message to her other mother, letting her know that she was on her way. “I've got to get home. Curfew is at ten.”

“I'll drive you?” Tink suggested, her question tilting up hopefully at the end, and Leila smiled as she nodded her agreement.

The older blonde grinned back, reaching into her pocket for a crumpled twenty dollar bill which she left on the table for Ruby, grossly overestimating the cost of their drinks and the fries, but Leila knew from being Emma’s kid that they _all_ tended to over-tip when they were paying one another, either at Granny’s or the Rabbit Hole.

“Let's go,” the woman coaxed, and Leila nodded again, allowing her godmother to throw an arm across her shoulders and squeeze her close (because, apparently, not _all_ hugs made Tinkerbell awkward) as she led them through the diner and to her tiny, efficient car, and in the direction of Mifflin Street as swiftly as possible. To bring her _home._

 


	17. Chapter 17

 

When Tinkerbell slowly rolled to a stop in front of Regina's house, shifting gears to park, a pang of longing hit her in the chest and a sad smile stretched across her face at the intricately decorated exterior. The Mills' mansion had always felt like another home to her, and even more so during the holidays. She'd spent the better part of her late teens trying to keep Regina safely sane and happy and away from her mother, and it pained her to no longer have an active role in the woman's life. They had been through so much together, lived together for so many years; it was hard not to come out of the other side of that with a deep bond. But, she supposed, there were some relationships in life that just couldn't be repaired. She didn't know what exactly had broken hers with Regina, but it was clear that something had.

"You miss her, don't you?" Leila inquired in a calm, quiet tone as she studied the other woman’s furrowed brow.

Tink shrugged, but nodded with a long, deep sigh. "She's always been the closest thing to a sister I've ever had. But sometimes the past has to be left in the past. No need to dredge up old wounds."

"So start fresh,” Leila suggested easily, one corner of her dimpled smile turning up as Tink’s hesitant gaze met her own. “Ask her to meet you for coffee."

She had been trying harder since Leila's return, but to virtually no avail. She dropped subtle hints when they ran into one another, but still allowed Regina to keep a comfortable distance from her, from their past, while trying to navigate the present. It was clear that something still kept Regina from rekindling their friendship, she just wished she had a better idea of what that something might be.

But maybe she’s right, Tink mused as she regarded the girl curiously for what felt like the hundredth time in one evening. Maybe it was time to make less of a subtle hint and more of a firm offer. "You're a smart kid, you know that?"

"So I've heard.” Leila shrugged, looking down and away under the scrutiny. This sort of attention was exactly the kind she avoided. “Text her." Leila smiled. "And thanks for the talk, and the ride too."

"Anytime, Leila. I mean it, that's what I'm here for,” she paused, settling under the weight of the declaration. “Take care of her."

"I will."

She leaned over and wrapped one arm around Tink's shoulders, squeezing awkwardly within the unforgiving space, and then propelled herself out of the car, closed the door, and waved over her shoulder as she bounded towards the front porch. After entering the house she flashed the front lights at the blonde, signaling her to go, and shrugged out of her coat.

She paused at the base of the stairs, marveling in the beauty of the tree before her; the twinkling lights and the large red velvet bow at the top welcomed her home. And while the idea that other people actually made a spectacle of coming to view her home for the holidays made her a little uncomfortable, the entryway did look lovely. And it made her heart warm just a little that her mother took pride in bringing others joy with her decorations. She adjusted some of the lighted garland that had probably shifted with Henry's heavy touch, and grabbed the railing as she ascended to her bedroom undetected.

 

\--------

 

The girl changed into pajamas and came downstairs to find Emma and Henry passed out with the dull hum of The Santa Clause still playing, each of them spread out on various pieces of furniture in front of the tv. A warm, low fire burned and licked the fireplace and made everything feel so much like home that suddenly her heart ached. She smiled at the first sound of Henry's quiet snoring and the way Emma had an arm and a leg thrown haphazardly over the back of the couch. However, as she looked around the room for her mother, she realized she was nowhere to be found.

A pang of regret and discomfort gurgled in her stomach when she realized she'd have to go through the house to find her. Tink was right; it was time to let go of her anger and make amends. Regina had done nothing but give her everything she'd ever desired since she'd met her, and it wasn't fair to punish her for a decision she'd made so long ago. Leila realized now that she had more than made up for it. She noticed a soft light from under the door to Regina's library and inhaled deeply as she turned the knob, ready to apologize.

Amidst the ever-present stacks of books cluttering the space, Leila found Regina. She was curled up on the bright, red couch that had been maneuvered closely in front of another smaller fireplace, a large, intricately stitched quilt covering her legs. She stiffened at the blonde's entrance, glancing up briefly as she gripped the book in her hands a little more tightly. She spared Leila a pained smile as she flipped the page, yet couldn't seem to look her in the eyes and it silently broke Leila's heart. "Mom--I…”

"Please don't, Leila."

Her stomach dropped as she looked to the ground in shame over so clearly hurting Regina. She stood still for a few moments more and then hesitantly edged over to the couch, sitting at the far end, not quite sure if she was welcome or if she should give her space.

Regina sighed, lifting the quilt to pull it out from under her so she could hand half to Leila, a loud crackle from the roaring fire drawing both of their attention simultaneously as Leila shuffled a little closer, accepting the soft fabric and draping it over her legs.

A few moments of awkward silence stretched over between them while Leila watched the even, calming rhythm of her mother's breathing. Regina allowed herself to read the same sentence over and over several times before accepting defeat, slowly closing the book and placing it on her lap.

"We can't keep doing this." It was firm, and yet kind, and Leila fiddled with her hands, nodding her understanding slowly.

"I know."

Regina breathed deeply, leaning her head to rest against back of the couch, troubled eyes twinkling by firelight as she regarded Leila earnestly. "I love you."

She paused as the weight of the statement settled. "I've always loved you, regardless of the decision I made when I was sixteen." Her jaw visibly clenched, holding back tears. "I can't change that now."

"I know you can't."

She continued, not hearing Leila's response. She'd clearly been weighing and formulating for some time, and there would be no stopping it's release. "I understand why it upsets you, and I understand that I have no right to hope that we can move forward and build a life together, but I will never stop trying. I won't apologize for that anymore."

Leila shook her head vehemently, a hand outstretched between them landing on Regina’s knee over the blanket. "I don't want you to."

Regina paused, taken aback at what she'd heard. "You don't?"

"I've been thinking and--" The blonde choked on her words. She's spent the majority of her life feeling the weight of the pain of which she so desperately wanted to let go. "You were the same age as me." She paused, practically holding her breath as Regina eyed her with a hint of confusion. "There's no way I could raise a baby right now. You...did the right thing for me. You held up your end and you couldn't have known it wouldn't work out."

Regina inhaled sharply, the words soaking into her with an ache.

"I wanted an amazing life for you." She paused, hesitating through what she wanted to say to prevent another outburst. "I still do." She turned to look directly at Leila now, a firm resolve overcoming her features. "I just wish you'd let me try to give it without assuming I have ulterior motives. Nothing can assuage my guilt, and I'm not looking for your forgiveness."

Leila smiled, placing a hand over Regina's as it twisted uncomfortably under the blanket. "It's not mine to give."

Regina blanched. "What?"

"I may have tried to punish you before but I think I figured out tonight that it's not me that needs to forgive you. You have to forgive yourself."

She opened her mouth, the endless string of questions and feelings trying to burst out but with no avail. "Why?"

"Look, I had a shitty childhood. There's no getting around that. But see?" She gestured up and down her body with a goofy smile and a shrug. "I turned out just fine. I know you would have given me an amazing life. But that wasn't our story. This is our story. It just took me a long time to realize that."

Regina was still frozen in place, barely breathing; too afraid of Leila bolting, too afraid that she'd fallen asleep and that this was a dream, too afraid of everything. She felt the blanket shift as the blonde scooted up next to her and laid her head on her right leg as she stretched out along the rest of the couch. The room immediately grew and relaxed and Regina reached down to run her fingers through messy curls as the two shared a moment, perhaps their first, as just a kid and her mom.

"I don't know where you get these from, but they really are beautiful."

"What? My curls?"

Regina laughed softly, but so deeply Leila could feel it from where she rested. She turned her head up just slightly to look at her mother and smiled at the light that had returned to her eyes and her smile danced with the flickers of the flames before them. "Mhm."

"They're a pain in the ass."

"Just like you."

Leila rolled her eyes. "Yeah, just like me." She paused, her mouth turning down thoughtfully. "Did you see them both passed out in front of the tv? I don't know how they get themselves into those positions." She laughed. They both laughed. Regina's fingers still twisted around the curls as she leaned back into the couch once more.

"I did, which is why I ended up here. I decided to wait for you to get home and then we could all go to bed. As a family. It's been a long day."

Leila with filled with such a warmth at the word. Family. Something she'd never had but so desperately wanted.

 _Wait_.

Leila's recognition of the fact that she'd been caught quickly deterred her internal monologue as she visibly stiffened.

Regina raised an eyebrow, not looking at the girl but secretly pleased with herself at successfully implementing such a Mom moment with such ease. "Oh, you didn't think I knew that you'd snuck out?"

"Emma wasn't supposed to tattle on me. She said I had until ten to come home." She huffed slightly. "I was early."

"Emma didn't tattle on you, love. I just know you and your propensity for running. I figured once you got it out of your system you'd come back. I wasn't too worried, just, perhaps...disappointed."

Leila grimaced and tensed at her mother's tone. Her being disappointed was perhaps the worst thing a mother (let alone her own) could ever say.

"I met Tinkerbell at Granny's to talk. I read that she was," she paused, not quite sure she wanted to discuss the letters, but also hoping the slight explanation would suffice. "I needed someone who isn't Emma to talk to. And she's kind of the only other person I've gotten to know here so far. She told me if I ever needed help to call her. So I did."

"I see."

"Please don't be mad, she helped me work through a lot of things that have been weighing on me."

"I'm not mad, Leila. I just wish you would have asked. Or told me at the very least."

"I know."

"I realize that you've had a certain amount of freedom in the past, and I can respect that. But we have to be able to trust each other."

"I do trust you, I--"

"If you leave this house again, I need to be informed, no exceptions. You can go if you feel the need, this is a safe town, but you must respect my rules."

Leila nodded. She wasn't confining her, which was good. When she was told she couldn't go somewhere, her first instinct would be to go out of spite, but for the first time she didn't feel boxed in by an adult saying no. She nodded again firmly once more, meeting Regina's eyes in understanding. "I will, I'm sorry."

"So," Regina continued, hoping to ease the mood. She wasn't sure how much parenting she could force on the girl at once, but it was progress and she made a mental note to talk to Emma about their little secret. "what did you and Tinkerbell discuss?"

"I asked her about you, mostly. What you were like when you were younger."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, she didn't tell me much. She mentioned she'd made you promises in the past she intended to keep."

The side of Regina's mouth twitched in an almost smile, finding solace in knowing that her oldest friend kept her deepest secrets so close to her heart even after years of distance. "But she did tell me that you met and chose my adoptive parents. Why didn't you tell me?"

It was a fair thing to tell her, Regina decided. Of all the things she could have divulged, this was the least harmful. "It seemed easier for you to hate me for the life I forced you into than to give details that would aid in any sort of defense."

Leila frowned. "I haven't been fair to you."

Regina looked down at her and smiled, running her thumb along Leila's jaw soothingly. "Their names were James and Kathryn and they were lovely people. They were so eager to finally have a baby. They'd been waiting for years and even showed me pictures of your nursery. I'm not sure what happened, but obviously not what I'd been told."

"It's not your fault it didn't. I get that now."

Regina nodded. "It's not yours either. You were absolutely perfect. It broke my heart to let you go."

"You would have been a great mom." Regina stiffened, her body tensing at the implication, and Leila amended, "You are a great mom."

She relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief as she ran her index finger over the curvature of Leila's ear soothingly. The girl’s eyes closed, and Regina felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude at the ease with which they could now just be together.

"Are you hungry? Can I make you something before bed?"

"I figured I'd just grab a cookie."

Regina frowned. "Absolutely not. I can make you a real meal. Or we have some of last night’s stir-fry leftov--"

“Mom.” Leila smiled. Regina’s desperate need to fill any unoccupied moments with food never failed to amuse her. “I'm good, I swear. A cookie before bed will do.”

Regina hesitated, but the resolute way Leila stared her down as though challenging her to argue led her only to sigh and nod in response. “Fine. But let's have some mint tea as well.”

“With cookies? They're chocolate chip.” Leila wrinkled her nose in distaste, to which Regina gasped incredulously.

“Mint and chocolate are meant for one another.” It was as though Leila had questioned the very existence of gravity, and her mother couldn't quite grasp her ignorance to the concept.

“If you say so.” She feigned annoyance with a roll of her eyes, but smiled gently as she followed the languid way her mother stood, stretched, and vacated the study in favor of a still-warm, cozy kitchen.

 

\--------

 

For the many years Regina had spent alone in such a large house, she had always thought of the silence and the space as peaceful. It had never been overwhelming or lonely to her, even when Robin had been away for weeks, months at a time; she had liked her solitude just fine. But now, with three other pairs of feet traipsing up and down the stairs, three additional breakfasts to consider, and three extra sets of heavy sighs to greet the morning, she couldn't imagine occupying the space without them.

The first to wake each and every morning, without fail, was Regina herself. She had always been an early riser, whether by nature or nurture she wasn't sure. Henry followed not long after, shuffling around the second floor loudly between his bedroom and the bathroom, using the spare time to read quietly alone until someone called him downstairs for breakfast. Emma hadn’t been with them long, but already tended to rise somewhere between Henry and Leila, who inevitably had to be dragged out of bed and pushed into the shower each morning.

On this particular morning, a lazy, late Saturday, Regina simply sat at the little table in the kitchen sipping on a cup of hot, fresh coffee as she listened to the sounds of the house slowly awakening to join her. Leila, she knew, wouldn't venture anywhere near other people until sometime in the late afternoon, and Henry would spend as much time by himself as he could before Emma missed him and coaxed him downstairs to play a game with her.

No, Regina sighed to herself, she was perfectly content to feel the mid-morning sun flood in through the adjacent window, bathing her in warmth despite the soft blanket of snow on the ground, She puzzled over fifteen across in the Saturday crossword. She tapped the pen against her bottom lip thoughtfully, her brain attempting to dredge up Sondheim lyrics desperately in accordance with the clue, when Emma shuffled into view through the revolving door, arms crossed over her chest and a bleary, glazed look on her face.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Regina jeered at the stubborn pout that would retain residence on the blonde’s face until she located her first cup of coffee (which, fortuitously, she had already placed on the table at Emma’s seat.) As she plopped onto the chair with a heavy sigh, Regina poured the still-steaming brew from the French press into the over-sized mug that had become Emma’s favorite over time. “How did you sleep?”

“Like hell,” Emma groaned, lifting the mug to her lips and simply holding the warmth against her skin for a moment before indulging in the first sip. “Why was I on the couch?”

“You fell asleep there, and you looked so peaceful, it didn't seem right to move you,” Regina fibbed, dipping her head over the crossword once more to allow the curtain of her hair to cover her face. Emma could always tell when she was lying. She glanced up at the woman then, who was squinting curiously at her. “Who is alone in a 1987 Sondheim title?”

“What?” Emma blurted, confused by the sudden change of topic, before observing the spread-out puzzle on the table beside Regina’s own coffee mug. Her eyes roved towards the ceiling thoughtfully before pursing her lips in recognition. “Oh. No one.”

“Emma,” Regina chided, huffing as she moved on to another clue, “if you don't want to help me, you can just say so.”

“No, Regina, that's the lyric.” Emma insisted, taking the pen from her and indicating the five spaces one by one. “N-o-o-n-e. It's from Into the Woods.”

“Right.” Regina cleared her throat, snatching the pen from Emma’s fingers and filling in the answer harshly. “Obviously.”

Emma smirked; it wasn't often that she knew something Regina didn't, but she decided to bask in her victory quietly, and to herself. A few long moments passed in contentment, the only sound the pen scratching quickly at new answers, as though Regina was in a race with herself to prove she still had the intellectual upper hand.

"I can't believe you didn't wake me up,” she complained eventually, to which Regina bit her lip and gently folded her hands across her lap. “I spent the night on the couch and I didn't even do anything wrong."

The brunette sighed, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear as she looked up and away from Emma’s teasing gaze. Her mind wandered to the previous afternoon, limbs tangled and hearts racing and please and don't stop and--

"Well,” Regina explained haughtily, quickly interrupting her own train of thought. “I don't have sex with my children next door."

The blonde’s face screwed up in confusion, her body sagging against the back of her chair in her surprise. “Wait, what?”

Regina blanched, as though just realizing what she’d said aloud. “I just…yesterday afternoon, when we were…”

Her voice trailed away as she vaguely gestured upwards in what Emma assumed was the general direction of her bedroom, and she had to stifle a laugh at her obvious discomfort.

“When we were what, Regina?” She teased, enjoying the way the other woman glared at her in exasperation.

“When we were about to fu...when we were about to have...Emma...you know!” She whispered furiously in response, glancing nervously towards the door, almost as if she expected both children to appear out of nowhere to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Jesus, calm down,” Emma sighed, reaching up with both hands to flick her hair out of her eyes. “We didn't, did we? I just meant you could have sent me up to a guest bedroom or something instead of leaving me on the couch like some peasant.”

A small smile blossomed across Regina’s mouth at the joke, and she offered a hand across the space between them to take Emma’s within her own, weaving their fingers together seamlessly. “It's not that I don't want to.”

“I know.” The blonde smiled softly, squeezing Regina’s hand before gently tugging it closer to her chest, drawing the other woman out of her chair to drape herself across Emma’s lap. Regina circled her arms around Emma’s neck loosely, pressing their foreheads together softly.

“I just wasn't in the right place last night...emotionally,” Regina explained in a low murmur, her fingers gently massaging the skin of Emma’s neck, “after Leila.”

“I know.” Emma repeated, her eyes closing at the soothing feeling of her touch. “And when we do…”

“I want to be there...completely.” Regina insisted, her breath hitching slightly when Emma’s palm slid casually up her thigh. She slowly crossed one leg over the other, trapping Emma’s hand between her thighs; it was a move that drew the blonde’s attention entirely, as she knew it would. It always did.

“But if we have to wait until there are no children…” Emma began suggestively, squeezing with her palm as her lips attached to the side of Regina’s neck. “I don't know. Henry won't be old enough for college for quite a while.”

“He’s smart,” Regina breathed, her head tilting to expose more skin to the kisses Emma provided with enthusiasm. “Maybe he’ll skip a grade or two. Or six.”

"There’s literally like an entire house of space between your room and theirs, Regina."

“One hallway.”

"Still.”

"Em- we...can't."

The sudden, loud slamming of an upstairs door elicited a reluctant groan from Emma, exhaled against the brunette’s neck, to which Regina grinned and gracefully extracted herself from the enticing embrace. “Soon, dear.”

“Promise?” Emma pleaded hopefully, catching her by the waist in a sudden hug that pressed her face into the softness of Regina’s stomach, the gentle touch of her oversized cashmere sweater soothing against her skin. Emma thought that perhaps she would never tire of seeing Regina this way: cozy, warm, and soft, wrapped up in loungewear that was somehow still so elegant it made Emma feel underdressed for breakfast at home.

“Ugh, gross,” a grumbly, disgruntled voice sounded from the doorway as Leila pushed her way into the kitchen. “Don't you two ever get tired of that?”

“I promise,” Regina ignored her, responding instead to Emma’s plea with a significant look over Leila’s head as she returned to her own seat. “And good morning to you too, Leila. To what do we owe the pleasure so early on a weekend morning?”

“Henry,” Leila complained, stabbing a croissant from the platter at the center of the table and depositing it onto her plate.

“Hey, do you set the table for breakfast every morning? I thought that was just a before school thing.”

“Every one,” Emma confirmed, returning her attention to the rapidly cooling coffee and deciding to top it off from the now half-empty French press. “And for future reference, this is what nine o’clock on a Saturday looks like.”

“Well, it's not at all what Billy Joel said it would be,” Leila observed grumpily, and Regina grinned.

“So what did Henry do this time?” Emma inquired curiously, and as Leila emptied the last of the coffee into her brightly-patterned mug, Emma rose to brew another pot.

“He reads.” Leila muttered darkly, giving Regina a significant look while Emma was turned away to grind the coffee beans. “So loudly.”

“He reads out loud?” Regina was surprised by the idea; she passed by his room each morning numerous times and had never heard so much as a peep.

“No, it's the pages,” Leila explained earnestly as she tore apart a second croissant. “He turns them and turns them and it sounds like...you know, when it's windy and you're carrying a poster and it wobbles?”

“That is...oddly specific,” Emma replied slowly, and with a kettle of water heating over a gas burner, she turned around and leaned against the warmth of the stove. “You can hear that?”

“From across the hall. Clearly.” Leila confirmed with an annoyed huff, her eyes drifting lazily to the side to where Regina had refocused on her crossword. “If only there was another, more secluded space in the house I could take…”

She jerked her head towards direction of the foyer where they all knew the drawstring ladder to the attic was located.

“Hey, there's an idea,” Emma agreed and crossed her arms over her chest, a suggestive brow raised in Regina’s direction. “That would put how many hallways and stairs between Leila’s room and yo….everyone else’s?”

“Out of the question,” Regina replied absentmindedly.

Before Leila could argue her case, though her mouth opened to do so vehemently, Henry burst through the door as if on cue, a happy skip in his step and his hair rumpled.

“Good morning!”

“Of course you think it is,” Leila mumbled, ignoring the way Regina cut her eyes sharply towards her at the remark.

“Why are you so grumpy?” Henry frowned, falling heavily into his seat across from Leila, Regina between them, and Emma still patiently waiting for water to boil.

“Because you're annoying,” she replied, reaching out suddenly to yank his bowl away the second before he intended to pour milk over the dry cereal.

“Hey!” Henry cried as he spilled several drops of the liquid onto the table before his sister pushed the bowl back into place.

“Leila,” Regina chastised, barely looking up from her newfound focus on seven down instead of the way Emma had moved to stand behind her, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of Regina’s neck.

He glared furiously at her as he accomplished dousing his cereal, slamming the glass bottle of milk onto the table a little too harshly when he finished.

“Henry,” Emma warned, though she didn't look up from her task of pouring the steaming water over the finely ground coffee settled at the base of the French press. Leila ignored her and poured her own helping of cereal with milk.

Though both parents carried on about breakfast without incident, their children glared and glowered mercilessly throughout the meal. Emma returned to her seat and leaned her chin on her fist against the table while flipping through the rest of Regina’s discarded newspaper, and the brunette was two clues away from completing her crossword when the children could no longer be ignored.

Leila, with a dramatic huff, kicked the foot of Henry’s chair, sending him flying back against the wall. She had barely nudged it, and she was in shock at the force with which it slid. Henry, eyes wide as he'd been knocked back, stood quickly and rushed over to stand next to her, getting within an inch of her face. "Stop it." He demanded, pushing her in the shoulder a little ( though he was usually not one for violence) as he went back to his seat and plopped down with a loud huff and crossed arms.

Not looking up from her paper, an article about a new restaurant trend catching her eye, Emma distractedly commented in an effort to not intervene but also to get them to cut it out. "I don't know what's gotten into you two, but it needs to stop."

Henry looked to his mother and then to Leila and in retaliation, quickly snatched the last croissant from the table and threw it at her chest; in a spectacular display of his lack of ability to aim, it landed with a loud plunk into her cereal, effectively splashing a wave of milk into her hair and across her lap.

“Enough!” Emma snapped, her palm slapping against the table warningly, and the children whipped their heads around to take in the sharp glare that accompanied the action. She wasn’t their usual disciplinarian, and their raised, fearful eyebrows and cowered stances reflected it.

“He started it!”

“She started it!”

The simultaneous defense plea rolled over a now-annoyed Regina, who sat a little taller in her chair and lifted her steaming, freshly-replaced mug of coffee to her lips to blow cool air across its surface.  "Maybe we all should spend the day by ourselves, since we can't even get along first thing in the morning. Go to your rooms. I don't care what the two of you do, but it will be quiet and respectful of each other's space. Go. Now."

"I'm not going ‘up to my room’ like a third grader.” Leila argued, punctuated by an indignant huff and arms harshly folded over her chest, a mirror of Henry's behavior. “I'm just gonna go for a run."

“It’s twenty-five degrees outside,” Emma reminded her incredulously, gesturing over her shoulder to the tiny flurries of snow landing on the picture window behind the table.

Leila shrugged, affecting ambivalence, and pushed her chair back to stand and make her exit. “I’m a big girl. I can handle a little snow.”

Regina rolled her eyes. "Fine. But be back before dinner, no exceptions."

"Yeah, fine, okay, Mom." Leila drawled sarcastically as she made her way to the counter to grab a few paper towels to clean up the mess. She disposed of them and breezed out of the kitchen, leaving her bad mood to settle upon the the rest of her family.

“Henry?” Regina prompted, turning her attention back to her crossword puzzle, and he looked between her and Emma expectantly.

“What?” He blurted out, digging his spoon deeply into his cereal and stirring it. He had long since finished eating, and was now simply playing with it to give himself something to do.

“I asked you to go to your room,” Regina reminded him gently, and his brows furrowed in confusion as he looked to Emma for confirmation.

“But Leila left. We’re not fighting anymore. And she started it,” he argued; it seemed as though the disagreement had crept inside his good spirits and dashed them, and Emma admonished him with just that “mom” look that any child would recognize.

“You are equally responsible for what you do.” Emma explained, and placed her palm on Regina’s knee under the table, for while she was steadfastly training her attention on the puzzle before her, she knew she was floundering within this moment parenting a child other than her own. “And when you do something you know you shouldn’t, like argue with your sister at the table, Regina is just as ready and capable of punishing you as I am.”

“But Mom--”

“But nothing.” She insisted, her tone firm and resolute, and Regina’s eyes lifted from her latest clue to meet Emma’s in silent agreement before they both turned to look at Henry, a team once more. “Now go to your room like she asked you to, and we’ll call you when we’ve decided you're ready.”

“This is stupid,” Henry huffed, indignant irritation coloring his cheeks red. He had been so happy when he woke up, excited for a Saturday full of cartoons and reading and his family, and Leila had ruined it with her big mouth and bad attitude. “Just because Leila got two moms out of this, doesn’t mean I needed two.”

He kicked his chair back much in the same way she had, carried his spoon and bowl to the sink to rinse them and load them into the dishwasher, and then ran from the room, the door swinging harshly behind him. Regina sighed deeply, worry lines formed on her forehead, and she cleared her throat gently of the emotion she felt building there.

“I suppose I’ve become a bit too comfortable with my role,” she commented blithely, and Emma, with a sympathetic frown, reached across the tabletop to take her hand within her own.

“He’s just grumpy, that had nothing to do with you,” Emma soothed quietly, "When he cools off, you should go up and talk to him."

"Regardless of how I feel, Henry is right. He has two parents, just as Leila does. I'm just...not one of them."

"You know that's not true, Regina. Don't do that."

"It's fine, dear.” She dismissed the comforting words, shrugging away from Emma’s touch. “Perhaps it would be best if we all had a little time alone today."

Emma was taken aback by the sudden shift in even Regina's mood. It wasn't her fault their kids had been unbearably irritating first thing in the morning. And now her...well, the woman she loved no longer wanted to spend a leisurely, relaxed Saturday with her. It was bullshit.

"I had plenty of time to myself when you left me on the couch last night." Emma griped, a sour expression crossing her face.

Regina rolled her eyes, stood calmly from her chair, and then swiftly crossed the room to begin returning the cold items to the refrigerator. She wasn't about to deal with Emma's attitude on top of Leila’s and Henry's.

"Do grow up, it wasn't intentional." Regina snarked back. "There are enough children in this house as it is without you throwing a temper tantrum."

"So you're going to send me to my room too?" Emma scoffed, using both palms on the table’s surface to help herself to her feet just as Regina turned around, an irritated frown firmly in place. "Oh, that's right. I don't have one."

"If you're so bound and determined to feel like an unwelcome peasant in this home, perhaps you should take your pity party and shov--"

"Well, excuse me, princess," Emma interrupted coldly, her eyes narrowing at Regina’s almost suggestion. "What are you going to do? Run away to sit on your throne of self-deprecation and law books all day and ignore me? Be my guest."

Regina seethed, nostrils flaring, as she stood squared off against Emma, the table keeping them a safe distance apart. She opened her mouth to retort, a haughty, scathing remark, but thought better of it and closed her mouth into a thin line. Instead of adding more fuel to this fire, she decided to remove herself from the situation in hopes that things would cool down and be better for their evening together. "I think I'll do just that."

And so she left the kitchen with a sweeping, dramatic turn, leaving Emma befuddled, annoyed, and yet still, somehow, admiring the gentle swing of her hips as she walked away.

 

\--------

 

With everyone in such disarray, there wasn’t much that Emma could do to occupy her time. They’d sent Henry up to his room a few hours previously, where she was sure he was either reading his latest preferred fantasy series or drawing; some quiet, secluded activity that he would probably have chosen whether he was in trouble or not. Leila had disappeared through the front door with a grand slam and hadn’t yet returned, and Emma could only assume she’d decided to spend her afternoon at Storybrooke’s only cinema, a quaint, single-screen little theater that played mostly classics for a fairly agreeable price. On weekends, the theatre often showed marathons, and Emma hoped that if she had indeed chosen to attend, she had maybe been able to go with a friend. She hadn’t heard Leila discuss friends from school at length, but there were a few recurring names she recognized. There was definitely a boy, she knew, because while she assumed the child had a real name, Leila had only cryptically referred to him as “Ace,” rolling her eyes each time Regina repeated it incorrectly.

For the very few weekends they had been able to simply just spend together without outside drama or distraction (which was maybe, like, two in total, if she was doing the math correctly,) Emma preferred to make Regina just stop. Stop working, stop worrying, stop multitasking, and just relax. They had spent one day in the middle of November, just on the cusp of Emma’s recovery, window shopping for a fictional refurbishment of the Rabbit Hole. Emma had been working diligently with her insurance company to rebuild the bar as soon as possible; structurally, both the loft and bar itself were, for the most part, safe and sound, but the impending completion tended to give both of them some sort of anxiety over the finality of it.

Would Emma move in permanently? Would she re-stake the claim on her independence and give Henry back his own space? Would Regina spend time at the loft? There were so many questions that they all chose just to ignore them all and function as if there were still months left until the bar was complete.

And so, with the rest of her little family shutting her out, she set her phone down, turned her music on and gave her hands and brain something to do. She ventured to Regina’s bar just off the kitchen and pulled out various liquor bottles. Certainly one of the best parts, for her at least, of dating someone with some money (and status) was the ever stocked, beautifully full bar always at her disposal. She was more than happy to take some of them off Regina’s hands since it seemed they magically restocked when she was finished with them. She placed the full, heavy bottles on the surface of the island, bringing the growing box Regina had stocked full of fresh herbs and microgreens to grow during the winter months to join them. Those signature drinks that were going to put her bar back on the map wouldn’t create themselves, after all.

 

\--------

 

Regina knew storming off to her office in a huff of annoyance wasn’t the solution to their little spat, but with the other two members of her family off expressing their annoyance with life in other places, she felt she deserved to do the same. And after twenty minutes or so of calming herself down, she figured she should go up and have a talk with Henry. Their budding relationship was much too young and much too important to let him stew.

Upon exiting the office, she could just spot Emma tinkering away in the kitchen, no doubt working on some new signature drinks she’d planned on debuting upon the reopening of the bar, and she smirked at the diligence with which she worked, her tongue poking out at the side of her mouth and her butt wiggling gently to the music that reverberated through the space. Watching her eased the tension in Regina's shoulders just a bit, but she certainly wasn’t ready to tell Emma she wasn’t as perturbed with her as she let on; but it did help her to prepare for the talk with Henry.

As Emma smirked a little at the newly full bottle of gin, Regina wondered whether she knew that Regina regularly restocked the bar with the nicest, newest, and best brands just for her to experiment with. She shook her head a little and made her way up the stairs with a soft sigh. Her life (and home) hadn’t been this alive since she'd lived in that house full of ridiculously rambunctious women years ago in college. And she found herself grateful, even in the tense silence that fell upon it, that the bodies that now occupied it were there because she'd finally done something for herself. Something right.

She reached Henry’s room and sighed, taking a moment to compose herself and her thoughts. She squared her shoulders and straightened her shirt, knocking gently on the door, fully expecting Henry to reject her. To yell at her to go away and that she wasn't his mom and he wanted to move back in with Emma's parents and that he hates her; but all she got in response was a weak "You can come in" and she breathed a soft sigh of relief. If anything was good about him not being a teenager just yet, this was definitely it.

"Hi, Henry," She called, peeking her head around the door to catch his eye before she stepped over the barrier into his space. "Would it be okay if we had a little chat about earlier?"

"I guess.” He looked up and met her weak smile with furrowed brows, not quite wanting to concede just yet. “I'm still mad about it though."

She nodded at him, walking into his room to join him in front of his closet which he'd converted into a makeshift fort of his very own. She kneeled in front of him, easily, adjusting her legs to curl underneath her. "I understand, I just didn't want to leave things the way we did."

"What's there to talk about? I got in trouble for Leila being a jerk to everyone. And that was stupid."

"It's not that we," but with the glare she received in response she amended her line of thought. "Okay, I...was trying to punish you. I just thought you could both use some time to yourselves."

He sighed, marking his page and placing the second installment of his Eragon series onto the floor of the closet. "Leila got a real mom and a fun mom."

"What?" She looked at him quizzically.

"You're a great mom to her, and my mom is like her best friend. But I," he looked down at his hands and shrugged. "I got two real moms when we started staying here. Plus, Leila is here too so I'm outnumbered three to one because I'm the only boy."

"I guess I'd never thought of it that way. I'm sorry for making you feel outnumbered." She shrugged dejectedly and continued. "And I'm sorry I'm not good at fun with you like Emma is with Leila." She reached out to touch his arm gently. "I was never really allowed to have the kind of fun that they do, my fun was escaping to far off places in books." She smiled, tapping the copy of his book. "What chapter are you on? I love that series."

"You've read the Eragon series?"

"Well, I saw you bring them here from the loft. I thought maybe we might both share a love for reading so I bought them and have been reading them too. I figured if you wanted to share them with me, you would when you were ready."

He smiled wide and nodded. "I didn't know you liked to read novels."

"I love fantasy books, actually. They're my favorites."

"Really?"

"Kings and queens, knights and dragons? Talking animals and true love's kiss? There’s nothing better."

He perked up. "Do you believe they're real? The happy endings?"

"Once upon a time ago, perhaps.”

“What makes you think that?”

She smiled earnestly. “Well, I have Leila now, and Leila brought you. That seems like a pretty good start to one if you ask me."

He looked down again with a frown. "Leila doesn't believe in happy endings."

"Leila has never been given a reason to believe in them. Her life was very hard and unfair for a very long time."

"But she could have read about them in books?"

"She probably hasn't read many fantasy books, Henry." She chuckled slightly at his huge, shocked eyes and smirked. "I think," she lowered her voice suddenly, as though she was preparing to say something improper, "she prefers to watch the movies.”

He gasped, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. And conspiratorially, he looked at his door to make sure Emma wasn't near. "My mom usually falls asleep reading so she just watches the movies too."

"That's such a shame!"

"My mom's only seen the movie Eragon," he confessed, a rushed whisper.

Regina whispered in return. "Leila's never read Harry Potter."

They shared a small, secret smile about the hurried admissions.

“Just tell me what you need from me, Henry. I only want good things for you.” Regina pleaded, reaching out to stroke the back of his hand with her thumb, a soft reassurance.

“I don’t like that Leila gets to run away from everything.”

“That’s fair," she agreed, but he continued in a hurried exhale, and she smiled at the upheaval as he let everything off his chest.

“I’m always stuck here to deal with the punishment because I’m too young to leave on my own.”

“Do you know why we let Leila leave?”

“No, but I know it’s not fair to me.” Henry argued vehemently, his defense of his own well-being palpable.

Regina chuckled a little at his response. “She’s never had much structure. She didn’t have a good mom to raise her and keep her out of trouble like you did. She’s still learning how to have one parent, let alone two.”

“But-”

“We’re trying to cut her some slack so she doesn’t feel suffocated by rules.”

Henry pouted a little, knowing that he’d lost this battle and really just wanted Regina to have to explain herself more so he could learn more about her. “I feel suffocated by rules!”

Regina laughed. “You’re ten, honey. I’m afraid you’re going to have to have some rules for a little while longer. Leila is older than you.”

Henry looked at her skeptically, trying to hold off a smile. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I’ll make you a deal, how about I talk to your mom and we maybe push your bedtime back an hour?”

He shrugged, not unmoved by the prospect, but still trying to retain the upper hand. “Will you read to me?”

“If you’d like me to.”

“I would.”

“Good. Then it’s a date.”

Regina sighed deeply as they sat together surrounded by blankets and books and comfort, a little cocoon so Henry nestled into a corner of a room still entirely too adult for him, and she made a mental note that she really should put some effort into redecorating this room to be more suitable for a little boy. This little boy.

Her son? She choked on another thrusting wave of emotion as it surged up her throat and then back down, offering him a shaky smile at his furrowed, concerned brow in response.

"I haven't had much practice on the matter," Regina offered, not entirely sure how best to express what the moment made her feel. "And I don't know how to love very well, but..."

"I love you, too." Henry confirmed, cutting her off both verbally and physically as he surged toward her quite suddenly, throwing his arms around her with barely a moment to spare for her to respond. But she did after the slightest hesitation, her arms circling his back as she held him, this child who wasn't her own but had so firmly and completely filled a space in her life she'd never known to be vacant. "And you can be my mom if you want. I'm sorry I said you weren't."

She couldn't hold them back now, the tears escaping down her cheeks as his words settled somewhere within her and curled tightly around her nerves, her emotions, her heart.

"I do," She confirmed, reaching up to cradle the back of his head for a moment longer, knowing that she possessed just enough maternal instinct to know that he would only stand to be held for a second or two more. She tamped down a little chuckle as he began to squirm away, confirming her suspicions. He settled across from her once more, each of them on their knees, legs tucked beneath them, hands folded on their laps. "Even if I'm not fun?"

He nodded at her, reaching out to give her a firm handshake that made her laugh as she took his hand within her own grasp. "You're just like me. You are the fun mom."

Hope blossomed in her chest at the easy way he referred to her new title, and she nodded happily, sharing with him a conspiring smirk.

 

\--------

 

Regina made her way back downstairs, checking to make sure Emma was still working in the kitchen, and with a satisfied nod that everyone was in their place and the house was settled, she nestled down in her chair to actually get a little bit of work done to lighten her load for the coming week. The only thing that their little arrangement hindered in any way was her productivity. Because, who would want to work when they could instead be tempted away with salacious kisses or games of chess or movies and popcorn on the couch...she’d found herself thoroughly distracted for months. And also thoroughly thankful for it.

Opening up her inbox and refreshing the app, she saw the name on the newly arrived email and her heart plummeted to her stomach as she read deeper and deeper into it. She quickly reached for her phone and pressed the number from her favorites and waited impatiently for the other line to connect.

"Regina?"

The mental math she had done before placing the call told her that it was nighttime in Paris, and he answered quietly, but not sleepily; she couldn’t help but wonder if there was someone alongside him in bed that he didn’t wish to wake.

"Hello, Robin."

"Is everything alright?” The hushed tones continued, but his concern felt genuine. “What's going on?"

She contemplated an attempt at small talk, but in the end, she deemed it a waste of both of their time. They had parted kindly and amicably, and she still trusted him to be a good friend to her when she so obviously needed his (and only his) help.

"We need to decide what we're going to do about...arranging not to spend the holidays together. I just received an email from my mother to confirm that we'd be in the city next weekend for the _Nutcracker_. It completely slipped my mind."

"Well..." he hummed to himself thoughtfully. "Why don't we just go? I can make a call and reserve the tickets now, you just book a flight for next Friday and I'll do the same. Your mother will never know the difference."

Regina briefly imagined the pained look on Emma’s face if she were to tell her that she intended to go away for a small trip with her ex-fiancé. She shuddered. "Do you honestly think that's the solution to this problem?"

"Why not? You don't want our parents to know we've...gone our separate ways. And believe me, I understand why. I just think making such a drastic change to our holiday tradition will alert them that something is going on."

"Oh, do you?" Regina murmured sarcastically. "Then tell me, dear, how would you explain the closing sentence of this email from Cora?" She tilted her head as she focused her attention on the screen of her laptop, reciting the bone-chilling words she had already read four times over. "And while, of course, I am deeply disappointed that you neglected to share your happiness with me yourself, please extend my congratulations to Robin as well on your exciting news."

He cleared his throat in discomfort, and she could imagine him fidgeting; could hear the rustle of sheets as he definitively sat up in bed. It was well past the time he preferred to get to sleep, but she was fairly certain she had earned this disruption to his routine.

"I, eh....I may have shared with my father that I'm going to have a son," Robin admitted quietly, and Regina's heart sank to her feet with a finality that hurt. There would be no way out, now. Cora would know, and she would know soon.

"Robin!" She gasped, a palm reaching up to clutch at her chest in response to her erratic, frantic heartbeat. "How could you..."

"Well you didn't want her to know we've ended things," He jumped to his own defense, an indignance in his voice that made her want to reach through the phone line and strangle him. "I couldn't exactly tell him I made a baby with someone else."

"And it never occurred to you that your father would immediately reach out to share his well wishes for his business partner's daughter and her pregnancy with his son?" She seethed.

"Like I suggested, it's an easy solution." He attempted to soothe her in a calm tone that only served to vex her further. "We'll fly to New York on the same day, we'll meet at JFK, and then do everything as we normally would. We'll stay at the Plaza and we'll go to the _Nutcracker_ and we'll treat your mother to whichever irritatingly trendy restaurant she's lusting after this week. Easy."

"Of course, it'll be easy for you," Regina mocked, an icy chill invading her tone, and she practically felt his nervous gulp from halfway across the world. "And since you seem to just have everything figured out, please, do tell: how should I go about fabricating six months of pregnancy in the next five days?"

"Why don't you just tell me what you would like to do to solve this problem, then? Since it's all about you and what you want, as always."

"What I would like is for you to possess some modicum of common sense, but I suppose, like so many other things, that's just too much to ask of you."

"You broke up with me, Regina." He reminded her. "Your mother is no longer my problem. I don't think you're in a position to ask me for much of anything these days."

"I certainly didn't ask you to step out on your engagement and knock up some French whore."

"And I didn't ask you to have an illicit lesbian affair, and yet, here we are."

And there they were, indeed, Regina thought. An impossible stalemate in which neither could be right nor wrong. She fumed quietly, her brain racing over endless compromising scenarios for herself and her new, fledgling family should Cora discover them. She shuddered.

“I may have been fine with the way we handled our parents in the past,” She began calmly; perhaps a change in tactic would garner a better result. “But at this point, I feel that going to such great lengths to maintain a lie will do more harm than good.”

“Okay,” Robin agreed, and Regina thought perhaps she heard him slide quietly out of bed and take a small walk to a new location. She couldn’t imagine what his new home looked like, but if she still knew him, she thought he had probably gone into some kind of home office. He liked to handle important things in locations that made him feel powerful; with a smirk, she reminded herself that the bedroom was not one of those places. “So how do you think we should handle it?”

“I’m going to respond to her and let her know that regretfully, we haven’t bought tickets to the Nutcracker this year and she shouldn’t expect us this coming weekend, but that I do hope to see her soon and will be in touch with possible dates.”

“All that’s going to do is buy you a little time, Regina,” he reminded her gently, and she knew he was right. “I didn’t mean to put Leila in danger.”

“I know you didn’t, but as with everything else in my life, I’ll have to do damage control now.”

"Are you sure we can't just spend one more weekend like we used to? I'm sure that would buy you even more time to figure it out..."

Regina rolled her eyes and commanded a new email to open, inserting her mother's address, rather than replying to the original. She had already forgotten how arguments with Robin tended to last longer than others, simply because he couldn't be wrong.

 

\--------

 

Emma had only meant to sling a barb at Regina earlier, but she did fully expect her to be buried under a pile of books in her library, glasses perched on her nose as she ingested the words desperately. She and Henry were so alike in that way, and Emma remained grateful that he had found such a kindred spirit in the woman she loved.

What she didn’t expect, however, was the sight of Regina sitting tall against the back of her chair, her phone tucked snugly between her ear and shoulder, both hands flying over the keys of her computer. The other woman barely looked up from her task at the soft creak of the door opening, a shifted glance in Emma’s direction all she offered. She walked further into the room, stopping just in front of the ornate, wooden desk behind which Regina was perched. Like always, there was a small legal pad full of tiny, scribbled notes just within Emma’s reach, and she lifted the nearest pen to add to it.

It had been one of their earliest agreements when Regina began working more regularly from home instead of physically going into the office. If she was busy, especially if she was on the phone, and any of them came in to speak to her, they were to write a note on the pad and pass it to her. They could say anything they wanted, so long as it was written down. Emma smiled as she glanced over some of the more recent interactions, three different handwritings of varying neatness and sizes interspersed between Regina’s own curling, posh scrawl.

There was a new, written request from Henry that Emma hadn’t yet seen, and she grinned to herself at the sight of his precise, meaningful print asking Regina for an after-school snack. The lack of written response indicated that she had simply nodded, leaving her work entirely, to go and prepare one for him. Emma’s heart fluttered at the thought. No matter how utterly vexing the woman could be, each and every moment she spent caring for Emma’s own son proved to be like a drug, coursing through her veins and igniting a spark somewhere low and warm inside her for Regina.

Just to its left, her eyes roved over Leila’s more hurried, messy writing, a conversation about her latest research paper and needing Regina’s opinion on her work. And then, in a far corner, the last one Emma had written with her, just four days previously. Regina had been on the phone with a developer for a new condo building just near the water; Storybrooke was undeniably growing in popularity as a summer escape for the residents of many of Maine’s larger cities. But Emma felt she needed a distraction and, as always, was more than capable of providing one. She read the first line, her own written request, followed by each of hers and Regina’s responses.

_I need you._

_What's wrong?_

_I want a kiss._

_No._

_Why?_

_Because you’re too loud._

_I can be quiet._

_I very much doubt that._

_Let me try?_

Regina had read her last suggestion, quirked a challenging brow, and leaned back in her chair, providing more than enough room for Emma to settle onto her lap. Emma had grinned devilishly and captured Regina’s lips in a searing, sensual, silent kiss, the dull hum of some boring, executive voice never ceasing to drone on from the phone still held to Regina’s ear. It lasted several minutes, kisses of varied length and pressure, but ever silent, before Emma had retracted her grip on Regina’s hips, placed one last soft peck on her lips, and left the breathless woman to attend to the rest of the business call, a very confused man on the other end of the line repeating “Mayor Mills?” a few times to regain her attention.

She hoped it was such a call this time, as well; if Regina had decided to work on a Saturday after all, well, that was her own dumb decision, but it meant Emma wouldn’t have a hard time getting the rest of her own work done. She didn’t want to alarm Regina by simply leaving without telling her, however, so she quickly wrote her a note and then slid the legal pad beside her keyboard, tapping it once with the end of her pen to make sure Regina looked away from the screen of her computer, which she saw with a glance displayed the new draft of an email. Regina read the simple line, her forehead scrunching into panicked lines as Emma watched her eyes scan the words twice.

Just wanted to let you know I'm leaving.

Regina lifted her own pen to the paper, the tip moving furiously over the same repeated pattern.

_?????_

Emma spun the pad on the desk’s surface to write her response, Regina waiting impatiently, her eyes burning an imaginary hole into Emma’s head with their intensity. I need sage for a drink. You aren't growing any, apparently.

Regina read this quickly and covered the mouthpiece of her phone with her hand, tilting her chin up towards Emma with a frown. "I most certainly am." Before Emma could argue (because she most certainly was not,) Regina rolled her eyes at whomever was arguing on the other end of her call, an indignant rebuttal bubbling up out of her. "I don't care what we've done for the last ten years--"

Emma stepped back as though she’d been burned, the muffled male voice suddenly registering as familiar to her. "Is that Robin?"

Regina nodded (somewhat reluctantly, at least, Emma observed), all the while still glaring at her.

“You didn’t want to be around me, so you decided to hide in here and call your ex-boyfriend?"

It was loud; she couldn’t help it, and his response was equally clear and loud, even from the other end of her phone’s speaker. "Is that Emma?"

"Enough!" Regina complained harshly, pinching the bridge of her nose as her eyes closed against their mutual interrogation. “This is not about either of you, or your obnoxious egos.” She paused, took a deep breath, and then continued, "Robin, I’ll blind copy you on the email I send to her, but right now I need to fill Emma in. It affects her, too.”

She gestured towards one of the chairs in front of her desk while concluding the call, indicating the she wished for Emma to sit with her. Emma crossed her arms with an irritated huff. She barely resisted the temptation to stomp her foot; the ghost voice of Regina accusing her of throwing a temper tantrum at breakfast kept her in check.

“So, some serious shit goes down and your first call is to him, when I’m actually in your house? What the fuck is that?”

“Emma, please sit down.”

“I’m not in the mood, Regina.”

Regina took a deep breath through her nose, rolled her eyes at Emma’s unwillingness to comply, and exhaled the metaphorical bomb. “Cora thinks that Robin’s baby is mine.”

Emma couldn’t control her body as it sank into the very chair Regina had indicated as the words crept beneath her skin and settled inside her bones, or so it felt. She glanced wildly around the room, landing on various complicated volume titles as she processed the information before meeting Regina’s fierce, panicked gaze.

“What does that mean?” Emma breathed, although she knew it couldn’t possibly have any result that would be good for any of them.  

“Well, it could mean a number of things,” Regina explained, “but I keep going over all of the possibilities, and every one of them seems to end with her showing up here unannounced...very soon.”

At Emma’s continued, confused silence, Regina pressed on. “Every year for the last decade, Robin and I have spent the weekend before Christmas in New York. Our own sort of holiday tradition, I suppose. We go to the ballet and we take my mother to dinner. It is the one and only time of year when I see her, so when I didn’t go about my plans as usual…”

“She asked you about them,” Emma finished her sentence quietly with a somber nod. She raked a hand through her hair and blew out a puff of frustrated air, a million questions fighting to be asked first. “And she thinks you’re pregnant because..?”

“Robin made the asinine mistake of telling his father about his new bundle of joy,” Regina seethed, and Emma was surprised by the malice in her voice. She had always spoken of Robin fondly since the ended engagement, but there was no warmth or respect in her tone this time. “And I presume his father tried to discuss it with my mother, and well, the rest, as they say, is history.”

“Well, you can’t really blame him, can you?” Emma sympathized thoughtfully. “He’s gonna be a dad. He’s excited.”

“I’m going to give you a moment to reconsider your position.”

“I’m not on his side or anything,” Emma defended herself, “But anyway, it doesn’t matter. What does this mean for us?”

“I’m most concerned about what it means for Leila,” Regina admitted. “Like I said, I see my mother once a year. Otherwise, I send her a weekly email updating her on my portfolios and accounts, a few very generalized life updates, and well wishes. She’s never required much more of my attention than that.

“But this? This is precisely what she wanted out of the arrangement all along. And because I’ve kept it from her, in her eyes, I imagine she will come here to give me some long-winded, self-important lecture about it. But as soon as she digs a little deeper into my life now that her attention has been drawn to it…”

“She’ll know about Leila.”

“Yes. And that is a huge concern of mine. That I’ve kept a secret, such a large one, from her for so long….well. She’s not going to pleased, and she’ll retaliate within every inch of her ability. And if she feels that having Leila has interfered with her plans for me, my first thought is that she will do what she can to take her away from me.”

“Regina, she can’t--”

“She can, and she will. She knows every judge throughout the entirety of New England. She could easily fabricate documents that would declare us unfit parents and keep me from adopting Leila. She could say that Henry started the fire in the loft…” she shook her head, accompanied by a deep, anguished sigh. “Her power is endless.”

Emma allowed that to ruminate momentarily, one detail sticking out to her, and she gave her a small, knowing smile amidst the looming, stressful tension. “You’ve petitioned for adoption? You didn’t tell me that.”

“It was just a few days ago, actually,” Regina confirmed with a pleased little nod, a new twinkle behind her eyes as she shared that smile with Emma. “It’s possible once she’s been in temporary custody for six months.”

“Have you talked to Leila about it?” Emma inquired, a curious tilt to her head as she settled more comfortably in the chair she occupied. She could forgive Regina not sharing the information (because what if she had wanted to file for adoption with her?) But ultimately, it was the least important issue on the table for the moment.

“I haven’t,” Regina admitted, reaching out with one finger to swipe across the mousepad of her computer to bring the screen back to life. She did still have a correspondence with her mother to finish, and she didn’t want to forget. “But just in case...it’s sort of like booking a wedding venue that has a waiting list of three years before you even get engaged. I wanted to make sure it was an option as soon as possible.”

“That’s the most neurotic Bridezilla shit I’ve ever heard,” Emma cried, aghast. “Three years?”

“Not the point,” Regina reminded her, amused. “And even if she doesn't go that route, she could still take all of my money.”

All of Regina’s money was a figurative concept upon which Emma tried earnestly not to focus, because it only served to make her feel somewhat inadequate and small, no matter how desperately Regina ensured that it would never be an issue. Regina continued, an even deeper worry line developing on her forehead, and Emma reached out across the surface of the desk to take Regina’s free hand and entwine their fingers supportively.

“I have a sizable trust fund in place for Leila that Cora obviously has no access to because she doesn’t know about it. I just redirected my salary and savings from a few accounts for a while, in small increments my mother wouldn’t notice. But I’ve never set aside any other money because I never thought she’d have a reason to take it from me. But she has access to everything; every investment, savings, and checking account.” Her voice dropped just slightly, effecting a gravelly, raw tone as emotion slipped into her speech. “I have nothing set aside for Henry! I have no nest egg for us! Leila’s trust fund will cover college, obviously, but nothing more, and--

“Okay, Regina, listen,” Emma cut her off, swiping her thumb over the back of her hand soothingly, keeping her voice even and low in an effort to bring her some calm and relief, “that is already way more than most people get from their parents. I took out student loans to go to college. Do you even know if Leila wants to go?”

“Oh, she’s going.” Regina affirmed in a tone indicating that there would be no further discussion of any other option.

An abrupt, incessant ringing began from the vague direction of the kitchen, startling them both. Emma pointed over her shoulder in what Regina assumed was a question about the call, so she answered, "My office line. I had it redirected when I stopped going in to work on weekends. I thought perhaps they should be reserved for family time. They usually go straight to my cell, though." She frowned, but the sound ceased after the third ring.

“Alright,” Emma smirked, but a little part of her fluttered happily at the thought that Regina's family time included her and Henry. “So what do we need to do, to make this work?”

“I don’t know,” Regina sighed, defeated. “We should warn Leila, I know at least that much. I assume she’s still out?”

“Probably,” Emma shrugged. “But we can talk to her as soon as she gets home. Hey,” she soothed, drawing Regina’s attention to make eye contact as she saw increased panic flash behind them. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore, okay? We’ll take care of everything together.”

Regina sighed and nodded with a little sense of relief, giving Emma’s hand a tight squeeze. “Thank you.”

Emma winked at her, smirking and nodding towards the pad of paper. “So, do I get more kisses, or...?”

“Don’t push your luck, Miss Swan.”

 

\--------

 

Leila had spent the afternoon watching old movies in the smallest, most deserted movie theater she'd ever been to. It gave her time to cool off and spending some quality time with a few of her friends was well overdue anyway. After all, not every weekend should be devoted to family time, regardless of how great her little family actually was. She was sixteen years old and she wasn't a child anymore and she shouldn't be lumped into Henry's punishments or forced to stay in.

She crept into the house quietly, hoping to get up the stairs without incident, shower, and maybe settle in for a nap since Henry had woken her up much too early for her weekend routine. But as soon as the door closed behind her and she deposited her coat and hat on the rack, the continual, drawn-out ringing of a landline phone droned on and on....and on. And she was confused by not only it's incessant ringing, but also it's mere presence. She didn't remember ever seeing a phone in the house, let alone hear it ring. And on the third one, she followed its path into the kitchen and picked it up with a quick but annoyed "Hello?" and was promptly greeted by perhaps the rudest person with whom she had ever spoken.

"That is no way to speak to anyone calling your boss's phone. I knew she had problems with her staff, but really, I'm going to have to have a word with her about hiring better."

"Excuse me?" Leila scoffed, crossing her arms heavily as she tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder, using her unencumbered hands to yank open both refrigerator doors, surveying her snack options.

"Are you deaf? You are obviously incompetent, dear, and if I have any say in things, I suggest perhaps you pack up your desk and prepare to find a new job immediately."

"Listen, lady," Leila argued, annoyed, and gently closed the refrigerator empty-handed. She would just wait for dinner; it was only a few hours away, and this phone call was rapidly diminishing her hunger and replacing it with irritation.  "I don't know who you are, but you have some nerve calling my house and being rude to me. I think you're calling the wrong number or something; and perhaps you need an attitude adjustment."

She pulled the phone away from her face, gave the offending item a dirty look, and promptly slammed it down onto its base. What a bitch. She shrugged and went on up to her room to take a shower; she wasn't willing to stick around to allow her day to get any more weird if she could help it.

Following a long, hot, relaxing shower, Leila contemplated her options. She could spend the rest of the evening alone in her room, sulking within the warm, soothing comfort of her bad mood. She could, additionally, make the effort to go across the hall and reconcile with Henry; that one was particularly less interesting, as she was still the tiniest bit annoyed at him for waking her so early on a weekend.

Ultimately, though, her stomach made the decision for her; movie theatre popcorn had only satisfied her so much, and it was becoming clear that she didn't possess the patience to wait for dinner after all. She decided to don her most comfortable, warm winter pajamas and make the trek to the kitchen. She preferred weekends like this one; so many blissfully open hours during which she could do whatever her heart desired. And in this moment, what she desired most was a large bowl of Regina's leftover coconut curry and her own personal Charmed marathon in front of the fire she fully expected to already be roaring at the center of the family room. The sight that met her upon her entrance to the kitchen however, while not surprising, was heartwarming, despite the icy front to which she was so desperately trying to cling. She may have felt warm and cozy and snuggly within her own soul, but she didn't need any of the cohabitants of the Mayoral mansion to know that.

It struck her every time she observed them how simply good her mothers looked together, even while doing the most mundane things. It was clear that they belonged together, and it showed in ways she wasn't sure even they noticed. In this moment, she found them both tinkering about the kitchen, and while they were clearly completing very different tasks, they were still quite in tune to one another's movements. Emma examined a horizontal line of short glasses, each about half full, leaning down occasionally to squint at their contents quizzically. Regina, with an amused smirk each time Emma did so, casually moved around her, pulling together ingredients for what Leila assumed (and hoped) would soon become their dinner. Regina was unlike many mothers in that she chose to prepare her more elaborate meals during the week, and viewed weekends as time to simply throw together whatever she had on hand and hope for the best.

She watched them for a few moments more, enjoying the fact that they quite clearly hadn't yet noticed her. There was a deep, dark electronic beat pounding from the wireless speaker set aside, presumably by Emma, and Regina, despite the way she griped consistently about Emma's taste in music, rocked her hips gently in time with the song. She was arranging several glass bowls of varying sizes beside Emma's workspace, filling them with what Leila could immediately tell were her favorite toppings for tacos.

"Tacos and margaritas for dinner?" She piped up suddenly, hopefully, which was met with a bright, amused grin from Emma in greeting.

"Not for you," Regina rejected the notion kindly, not looking up from her task of grating cotija cheese, though the corners of her mouth turned upwards in a content smile.

"Try this one for me?" Emma requested quietly and extended a glass towards Regina, who accepted it readily, bringing it to her lips for a small taste as Leila settled into her preferred barstool across the island from where both of them stood. Regina allowed a small, satisfied mmm to escape as she handed the glass back to Emma with a nod of confirmation.

"It's good," she confirmed, tucking a fallen section of dark, smooth hair behind her ear as she got back to work. “But could perhaps be just a touch sweeter.”

"Hey," Leila complained indignantly, affecting an offended scowl when she gained Emma's full attention. "What about me? I don't get to be a cocktail guinea pig?"

"You're totally right," Emma conceded, earning a wide-eyed, shocked glance from Regina as she twirled her finger in the air teasingly over the row of test cocktails, finally landing on one and lifting it towards Leila in invitation across the space of the island.

"Don't you dare intoxicate my child," Regina warned around the ghost of a laugh, gently shaking the cheese grater over its bowl and moving on to carefully pick cilantro leaves from their stems. Emma shot her a sly wink, nodding knowingly towards a curious Leila. The girl took a large, swift gulp, swirling the ice cubes gently in the glass, and then suddenly cringed so harshly it evoked a deep belly laugh from Emma, and even Regina couldn't hold back her chuckle. Well, she thought, I guess this makes up for never being able to force her to eat a lemon as an infant.

"What is that?" Leila croaked, horrified, and deposited the glass a little more harshly than necessary as far from herself as possible. Emma gently slid it back into its place in line.

"It's more or less a gin and tonic," she answered, shrugging. She placed her hands on Regina's hips to steady her as she moved behind and around her for a bottle full of some green, syrupy liquid to squeeze a steady stream into the drink she’d just had Regina taste.

"It's disgusting," Leila grumbled, regretting trying to play it cool and thinking Emma would have called her bluff.

"Great. So, when someone offers you a drink at a party and you say, 'what is it,' and they say, 'gin and tonic,' you can politely decline because you know you don't like it," Emma explained, earning herself a tiny gasp of delighted surprise on Regina's part and an exaggerated eye roll on Leila's. Regina strolled over and quickly pulled Emma into a brief, firm kiss to reward her for the adorable, teachable Mom moment and pulled away at Leila’s exasperated 'gross' under her breath.

"For someone so invested in getting us together all this time, you sure have an issue with any sight of it." Regina chuckled, eyeing her daughter with a smirk of mirth.

"Nobody wants to see their moms making out."

"Nor will you ever!" Regina insisted, and Emma laughed at Regina's squirmy displeasure that matched Leila's as she nudged Regina with her hip. She smirked when just the lightest tint of pink colored Regina's cheeks. Emma, with a significant roll of her eyes in Regina’s direction, muttered under her breath, "Well, at least not while your bedroom is in the same hallway as-"

"Anyway…” Leila drawled, hoping to bring the attention of the room away from kissing and flirting and whatever other uncomfortable things she didn't even want to think might transpire if she didn't intervene. “What kind of party would I go to where someone offers me a gin and tonic?"

"Private school parties," both Regina and Emma replied simultaneously, sharing a secret smile.

“Yeah, I don’t go to those.”

"Well, in case you ever do, now you know."

"Fine. No gin. No tonic."

Regina sighed loudly, which prompted both blondes to look to her as an uncomfortable silence overtook the kitchen. It was as though she exhaled every ounce of tension she possessed, leaving it to linger and settle upon the other two, despite the easy-going mood of the room. As much as she didn't want to have to talk about this, Leila's safety was far too important to beat around the bush.

“We need to to talk about my mother.”

"What? You mean the bitch who treated you like Stepford Barbie and ruined both our lives? That mother?"

Regina sighed again. "Yes, Leila. That mother."

"What about her?"

"I know we’ve spoken about her very briefly, but I don’t think you truly have any idea how dangerous she is if she wants to be."

"I can handle myself well enough, she doesn't scare me. And besides, it's not like she's even in Storybrooke, right? You said she never comes here."

Emma piped in, sensing Regina's impending panic attack because Leila wasn't taking this seriously in the least. "Look kid, we’re actually really concerned here, so even if you don’t usually listen to us, you should take this seriously."

"Hey, I usually listen to you. I just don’t always follow through."

"Leila, there have been some...unsettling developments due mostly in part to Robin's idiocy and also my complacency, so we need to go over some ground rules to keep you safe."

"Uh, like...what are we talking about exactly?"

"Don’t answer phone calls from numbers you don’t recognize, don’t wander around town alone, don’t go out without telling us where you’ll be and when. Always have your phone on you and always answer us, no matter what. Take care of Henry when you're at school."

"But Regina-"

She held up her hand to stop the girl from going off, because it wasn't about her losing her freedom or having too many rules. "I know you don’t like to feel trapped, so I’ve tried to allow you as much freedom as possible, but--"

“Phone calls?” Leila interrupted cautiously with a sudden realization, replaying the nasty tone she had heard from the other end of the land line when she’d arrived home. “Okay, don’t freak out, but I might have…already sunk that ship.”

“What do you mean?” Regina pressed breathlessly, her palm settling just above her heart where she could feel it begin to run wild.

“First of all, who knew we had a home phone? Because I didn’t,” Leila pointed out defensively. "Secondly, I may have kind of answered it a little while ago when it was ringing."

"And it was her?" Regina cried, eyes wide in panic, Emma pressed a comforting palm to the small of her back, rubbing soft circles there to soothe her. She had never seen Regina in such a state, and it was more than a little unsettling.

"I mean, maybe? I don't know her! She was very rude. Expecting me to be your secretary and telling me she was going to fire me or something."

"Were you rude to her?"

"I thought it was a wrong number! And I thought her talking like that to me was bullshit. She was calling my home and telling me she was going to make sure I was 'fired' just for just saying hello! I may have..."

"Oh God, Leila."

Emma immediately held herself to Regina's side to squeeze her hand in support and rub the length of her back just slightly to calm her down. She didn't want to overwhelm her, but she also didn't feel like dealing with an off-the-handle Regina; that was not her idea of a weekend and this Saturday had already sucked. "Emma, she'll be on the next flight. This is...what are we going to do?"

"I...I thought it was a wrong number. I'm so- I didn't mean..." As Leila watched Regina have a borderline nervous breakdown right in front of her, she began to panic within her own mind. She wasn't accustomed to seeing her mother so unhinged; frankly, it terrified her.

"Couldn't you have just said you must have the wrong number and hung up? Don't teenagers like to hang up on people?" Regina bit out, her tone chilling to a degree it never had with her daughter before. "Why couldn't you have been respectful just once?"

When Leila gasped and tears quickly welled in her eyes, Emma saw them before she could furiously wipe them away and tugged on Regina's wrist to get her attention, though she was attempting earnestly to ignore them and stifle her emotions. "Woah, Regina, just breathe. Let's just take a second and calm down and regroup. Just a second. It's going to be okay."

Leila had never been worried once in this whole endeavor that Regina might send her away; that she might ship her back to Boston and say it had all been a mistake, until this very moment. But the look in her eyes at even the mention of Cora was one she'd never seen before. And her fight-or-flight instinct was screaming at her to run away before things could get even more ugly. Before Regina could tell her she was too much trouble or not worth it, or a lost cause. She'd heard them all before, but she didn't know if she could survive hearing it from her own flesh and blood.

"Mom. Please, don't...I don't want to leave."

Regina stopped, immediately standing straight and looking at Leila with wide-eyed befuddlement. "Why would you ever think you would have to?"

"I brought that woman here, and you're so afraid of her and...I didn't mean to make things bad, I just picked up a phone!"

"No, it's not your fault." Regina insisted, her eyes shining with regret. "I don't blame you."

"But you said-"

"I'm afraid. I shouldn't have lashed out at you, but that doesn't mean I would ever want you to leave.” She paused, a look of sadness at the fear she'd instilled in the girl crossing over her features. "It just means we're going to have to figure it all out as a family."

"But you gave me away to protect us both from her. What's to figure out?"

"Oh, Leila." She rushed around the island, over to the barstool where she was still seated and pulled her into a tight hug. She murmured softly, her head resting over Leila's shoulder, "I was too young to protect you from her then. I won't let anything happen to you now, do you understand?"

"I put you in danger too." Leila countered, quiet and reserved. "I never wanted that."

"I've swept things under the rug for far too long, that's why we're in this mess. She probably would have come with or without you answering the phone." She inhaled, bringing her fingers up to the bridge of her nose. "Since I'm supposedly pregnant."

"You're what?" Leila balked, pulling away sharply to look between Emma and Regina quizzically like they'd magically created a baby together and it was somehow news to her.

"I'm not." Regina assured her,

"Then why does she think that?" Leila pondered it for a few seconds as Regina rolled her neck and shoulders, which was her tell tale sign of warding off the impending anger bubbling under her calm exterior. And really, only one thing, one person had that effect on her. "Oh, Robin."

"Yes, Robin."

"He knocked that Paris chick up and then blabbed about it, didn't he?"

"Apparently."

"What a piece of shit."

"Leila."

"Don't Leila me. I have a right to hate the guy. He completely screwed you over and now we have to deal with this mess because he's suddenly terrible at keeping secrets?"

Regina smirked; she had to give her credit for that, at the very least. She was passionate and protective; both of those things must have been inherited, and it was nice to see traits of her own appear in the girl from time to time. "Be that as it may, my mother coming here is an inevitability. And she will be here very soon. While I hate the idea of her knowing of you and meeting you because she's a monster of a woman, I'm not willing to hide you away and pretend like you aren't a part of this family."

"I don't want to make it any more difficult for you than it has to be." Leila insisted, squeezing the hand that Regina had laced within her own supportively.

But Regina quickly interrupted her. "Nothing about you being in my life is difficult, sweetheart."

Leila blushed a little and looked down at her hands, not being able to handle being doted on quite so prevalently. "So what now?"

Emma quite suddenly took a quick shot of one of the drinks she'd made and it made both Leila and Regina look at her curiously and then to each other with an amused shake of their heads.

"What?" She blurted out, her brows furrowing at their silent but ever-present teasing. "The moment called for it. You two are stressful."

"I doubt she'll come to the house first," Regina reasoned, spurring her body back into action and crossing the room to the refrigerator to gather more ingredients for their impending spread of tacos. "I never used to spend much time here. I presume she'll show up at my office."

"Should we come up with a code word to text each other?" Leila suggested, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, a position clearly not ideally suited for her location, but it made her feel safe nonetheless.

Regina quirked an eyebrow at her, looking into her eyes quizzically before returning her attention to slicing into an avocado. "A...what?"

"You know, in spy movies there's always a secret word for when things don't go according to plan." She explained.

"Oh right, in the movies, of course." Regina chuckled to herself, her mind wandering to her previous conversation with Henry. Both Leila and Emma shared a mutual, confused, "Huh?"

"Nothing."

"Henry has 'operations'." Leila continued, ignoring her. For how put-together, beautiful, even regal her mother could be, the woman was just weird sometimes, and Leila had simply come to accept it. "Like, 'Operation Cobra' or something equally ridiculous."

"What if I just send 'SOS'? That's a pretty typical, easy, and quick method, right? We can create a group chat so it goes to both of you at the same time."

"How hip of you, Regina."

"Emma, this is serious."

"Of course it is."

"Do you even know how to create a group chat, Mom?"

"Yeah, Regina, do you even know how?"

"I will destroy you both."

"You couldn't even if you tried." Leila smirked, looking at Emma and then to her mother's exasperated gaze.

Regina heaved a long, heavy sigh. They were just trying to ease some of her tension, she knew this, but her mother always put her on edge. Always. And now that she had to protect Leila, let alone Henry and Emma too, it made her world that much more complicated. It didn't sit right with her that her newly grown family could come into the crosshairs of her past mistakes.

Leila sensed her mother's discomfort. She could feel her mind racing and it drew her closer to Regina in a way she didn't understand. She wished that there was something she could do to make it better. Wished that this monstrous woman wasn't in their life, but like Regina had said, they would figure it out together. As a family.

 


	18. Chapter 18

 

Leila and Henry sat perched at the table eating breakfast, Leila's face buried in her phone and Henry's buried in his storybook, huffing and shuffling the pages furiously. She'd become accustomed to his frustration with the incompleteness of his story and learned, quickly, to tune him out. That was until he started speaking to the book as if it were a person. She glanced over at him quizzically and shook her head as what she thought sounded like a growl escaped his mouth. "What's your deal? It can't hear you, you know."

He looked up from the paragraph he was reading and glared at her. "Well, with all this Cora business, our moms aren't making _any_ progress breaking the curse! They'll barely spend any time together in case she happens to show up. It's all so stupid. So, I guess I'm just going to have to force them." He sighed, long-suffering and hard, dropping his head to rest over the pages. "The stupid book won't tell me what I need to do though."

She shrugged, rising to discard her cereal bowl in the dishwasher. "Have they ever been on a real date? That's how normal people do relationships. There doesn't need to be a _magical_ solution to everything."

Henry sat up tall, his eyes lit up, and he slapped his hands on the table in triumph. "A date! Like dinner! That's perfect!"

**"** What's perfect, dear?" Regina said as she strode into the kitchen with purpose, dressed impeccably for work, coffee mug in hand.

"Henry thinks you and Emma need to go on a date."

If Leila had been looking at him, she would have seen his eyes go wide and panic flood his features, but she simply stood regarding her mother with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk.

"That's not fair!" He argued, "You suggested it! I-"

"Because _you_ wanted to find a magical solution to a real world problem you've made up in your head."

Regina glanced between them curiously as she poured a steaming refill into her cup from the carafe. She'd obviously missed something that had transpired between them while she was in her study. "Henry, your mother and I have been very busy, but that doesn't mean we need a push from our children to spend time together. Everything is just fine."

He huffed again, resolute. "Well, _have_ you ever actually been on a date?"

He'd gotten her there, she had to admit. Beyond their times together as a family, and the not-even-a-little-like-a-date drunken hotel bar encounter from the night after Leila's emancipation hearing, they'd never actually gone and done something specific, just the two of them. Especially not out of the house.

"I'll talk to your mother about it," she said. "Maybe when you both go back to school, we can plan something."

It'd been harrowing for all of them since Regina had deduced that her mother might make a surprise visit. She knew, logically, that it would take some time for her to make the arrangements, but she wasn't sure how much time that actually afforded her.

She and Emma had agreed to put some physical distance between them for the time being, on the off chance she might show up at their home. If Cora hadn’t done any prior research, she would undoubtedly show up at Town Hall, expecting Regina to be metaphorically chained to her office as she once had been. This allowed Emma to throw herself into the last few details of her bar remodel as well, so the distractions were welcome. And they _were_ missing each other terribly, even though it had only been a few days. Regina supposed it was due to the many previous weeks of separation.

Maybe, Regina mused, Henry had a point.

Unfortunately, both kids were on a short winter break from school, so Regina found herself at home instead, diligently working from her study, frantically sending emails and taking calls and making sure she had enough going on that she could show Cora, should she demand some sort of progress report. Stepping back into her old shoes made her realize just how much more beautiful her life had become, and she hoped that, if it happened at all, the visit would happen soon so she could throw herself back into her family instead.

"Talk to me about what?" Emma burst into the kitchen suddenly, startling both Henry and Leila, but greeting an unaffected  Regina with a quick peck on the cheek and a small, secret smile.

"Henry has decided that we're overdue for a date night, dear," Regina explained.

"Oh, are we?" Emma chuckled, accepting the proffered beverage as Regina, who must have somehow sensed her coming, had just poured the rest of the coffee into a second, delicate porcelain cup. "Teacups for coffee this morning?"

"That was the end of the second French press," Regina explained, indicating the liquid Emma had just blown across the surface to cool before taking her first sip. "This household consumes far too much caffeine. You could use a smaller cup."

"Fine," Emma conceded, but noted with private amusement the much larger cup cradled between Regina's own palms. She never was very adept at following her own rules. "Anyway....date night?"

"Henry's idea," Leila reiterated, plopping back into her seat at the table beside him, both Emma and Regina leaning against the island in the middle, the mirror image of one another. Henry glowered in Leila's direction once more; he hated to be singled out.

"We _both_ think you should do something together...away from the house," Henry explained, punctuating it with an innocent shrug.

"Why do you need us out of the house?" Emma countered suspiciously, her eyes cutting over to Leila as they narrowed.

"We don't," Leila replied in a bored, unamused tone. "But I do appreciate the immediate suspicion. And anyway, it's not like you've been here anyway. Can't really try to get rid of you if you're not around."

"It's been three days," Emma argued with a roll of her eyes. She had already had a pastry on the drive over, but she figured another blueberry muffin could hardly hurt, and began to peel the wrapping away from one of the breakfast spread across the island. "And I'll bet you haven't even noticed. As long as Regina never changes the Netflix password, we all might as well live on a different planet for all you care."

"On which note," Regina agreed, fixing Leila with a hard stare. "I might just do that if you don't get your English paper finished today. I know you're on break, but you shouldn't procrastinate."

"Listen, Emma, if you're just going to come over here and give Regina stupid ideas like this, you should just stay at the loft," Leila complained, rising and shoving her chair beneath the table with an irritating scraping sound against the hardwood floor. "Go on a date. Don't. Whatever. Henry and I can take care of ourselves for one night."

And with a dramatic turn on her heel, Leila exited the kitchen.

Everyone in the room looked to each other in confusion, but continued on as if a hormonal teenager hadn't just thrown a fit and stormed out for having to do her homework. “So,” Emma drawled, inching up closer to stand next to Regina and get into her personal space. “What's on the docket today, Mayor Mills? Labor union woes? Building permits? A meeting with Spain? Portugal?”

She tacked the last two on for amusement, and silently applauded herself when Regina chuckled into her coffee. “Something like that.”

Henry quietly ducked out of the side door, taking his book with him but leaving his dirty breakfast dishes behind. Regina shook her head fondly after him, relishing the way Emma wrapped her up in a sidelong embrace, swaying them gently with her head on Regina’s shoulder. “Have you heard anything from your mother?”

“Not a word,” Regina replied quietly, and placed her now-empty mug on the surface of the island beside them. She turned in Emma’s arms, wrapped her own around Emma’s shoulders to tug her into an unexpected hug, and sighed deeply. Emma smiled, her nose tucked into the crook of Regina’s neck, and inhaled that subtle, floral scent that was somehow thrilling and _home_ all at once.

“So, would you like to have dinner with me then? Tonight?”

“It’s Monday,” Regina reminded her from over her shoulder, “that’s hardly date night.”

Emma reeled back, holding Regina at arms’ length by her biceps, and regarded her with a dubious stare. “ _Any_ night is date night if you try hard enough.”

Regina bit her bottom lip around a soft smile and ducked her head, allowing her forehead to rest against Emma’s chest. She had never really considered until this moment the fact that Emma had never taken her out, and she knew beyond any doubt that she really, _really_ wanted to go.

“I would love to.” She leaned back within Emma’s embrace, one hand braced against the blonde’s hip and the other sliding over her torso, along the side of her neck and into her hair to pull her into a kiss much too salacious over morning coffee and with no time to take it any further.

Emma cleared her throat, eyes still closed as she stepped back a safe distance from Regina, who did nothing to conceal the predatory intent behind her eyes.

“Well, let’s not keep Spain and Portugal waiting.”

 

\--------

 

It was as the server placed Regina’s second glass of wine on the table before her that it struck Emma that she had never _really_ been out with the woman she loved before.

She was elegant, certainly, in every situation and every sense of the word. Even now, seated at a small table in the middle of a restaurant in Portland (that Emma had googled three times just to make sure the atmosphere was “fine-dining casual”,) she stood out. She _always_ looked good, Emma knew, but somehow, away from their hometown and their regular lives, Regina became even more gorgeous. The black dress she’d chosen hugged her so tightly, Emma was sure it had never seen a day at the office, and some small, petty part of her secretly hoped it had never seen an evening with Robin either.

“Have you ladies decided?” The server pressed on, following Regina’s murmured _thank you_ upon receiving her wine. There was a hurried, annoyed clip to her tone; it had taken Regina what felt like ages to simply decide on her wine selection, and when she’d told them that the chef preferred they place a complete order rather than course by course, Regina had sent her away with a little wave of her hand.

“I don’t like to be rushed,” she’d explained absentmindedly to Emma as she pored over the menu, oblivious to the blonde’s utter bewilderment of her being so extremely high maintenance. She was fairly easy-going at home; why was she being so difficult now?

“We both know you’re either going to get the steamed halibut or the truffle agnolotti,” Emma said patiently. They had spent enough time deciding what their shared first courses would be that Regina had polished off her first glass of wine, and Emma knew from experience that they were now being labeled as _those guests_ by the staff. “So just choose one so we can order. Before the chef puts us on her hit list.”

“They don’t do that,” Regina argued, and Emma ignored the way her heart leapt into her throat at the feeling of the slim, sharp heel of Regina’s shoe dragging across her calf as the brunette crossed her ankles beneath the table. “And besides, we would have been on time for the reservation if you hadn’t insisted we stop at three gas stations on the way here. I still don’t understand why any other beer wouldn’t suffice, or why we _had_ to bring a twelve-pack to a nice restaurant in the first place.”

“I know you don’t, but it’s pretty common practice to bring a gift to the cooks. I never show up empty-handed, and PBR is the only choice for a kitchen. Trust me,” she replied; Regina shrugged, and Emma laughed to herself quietly. It was clear that Regina was accustomed to extremely fine-dining, and this sort of casual in-between where fantastic, elegant food meets a casual experience left her feeling somehow out of her depth. “And they definitely _do_ do that,” Emma smirked, taking a small sip from her own glass as she met Regina’s gaze. “How many restaurants have you worked in again?”

“Well...none,” Regina shifted uncomfortably; while she was willing to acknowledge her privilege most of the time, she had a hard time doing it when it put her in direct contrast to Emma. “How many have you worked in?”

“Four,” Emma replied simply, nodding her appreciation to the busser as he swooped in to refill her glass of sparkling water. “So I can tell you with confidence that right now, our server is in the kitchen complaining about you to her coworkers, their sous chef, and the cooks because we won’t close our menus and let them get started on our dinner.”

“Fine,” Regina allowed, and as the tiny, cute redhead reappeared to take their order with a simple quirk of her brow (Emma supposed she must have been utterly done with Regina’s shit, and who could blame her,) she regarded the leather-bound menu and launched into their order.

“We’ll share the broiled shrimp, the cassoulet, ricotta gnocchi, and charred octopus...course it out however the chef prefers,” Regina requested breezily, and matched the disdain apparent as she made eye contact with their server once more. “And then for my entree...the halibut. And for you, darling?”

Emma startled at the sudden softening of Regina’s tone as she shifted the attention away from herself, prompting her to place her own order. She looked up from her own menu to the redhead’s sympathetic gaze, and knew that some part of her must think she’d only be out with this ice queen for her obvious wealth driven by attitude. She made a mental note to discreetly pay the bill before Regina could produce one of her obnoxiously heavy credit cards and confirm that theory. “I’ll have the curried rabbit, please. And we’ll share a side of the roasted potatoes, too. Thanks.”

Regina wrinkled her nose in response as the menus were whisked away, their order finally rushed to the kitchen. “I knew you were going to order that. How can you eat _rabbit?”_

“With enthusiasm. It’s delicious,” Emma responded smoothly, and Regina couldn’t help the smile, though she longed to hold onto their on-the-edge-of-annoyance banter they’d once enjoyed, what seemed like a lifetime ago. She may have been in love, but she’d be lying if she said some part of her didn’t miss the tension.

“And how is it any different than octopus, anyway?” Emma said, reaching across the table’s surface beside the basket of still-warm bread to lace her fingers with Regina’s hand unoccupied by holding her wine glass. “They’re equally strange, if you ask me.”

“You don’t keep an octopus as a pet. Nor shrimp, nor halibut. You don’t eat your friends,” Regina explained succinctly, and Emma suddenly understood her usual plant-based preferences more clearly than she had before, “and I think I had a rabbit once, when I was young...although I don’t really remember. Everything before I had Leila is hazy, somehow. It’s a little frustrating.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a rabbit girl,” Emma mused, moving her hand away from the table as suddenly they were being given plates for sharing and some extra silverware.

“Well, they’re really just smaller horses, aren’t they?” Regina replied, resting her chin thoughtfully in her hand, elbow on the table, in a surprising break of etiquette that Emma secretly loved. “They both need hay, love carrots and oats, express themselves by ear movements, they lick your hands...I just find them to be such soulful, gentle creatures. Don’t you?”

“Who knew the Mayor had such a soft spot for animals?” Emma grinned, deflecting her question, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs to get comfortable. “But I stand firm on the fact that they’re delicious.”

“If I ever catch you trying to eat horse, Emma Swan, I’m going to break up with you.”

“But just to clarify, the rabbit’s still fine,” Emma joked, and Regina simply answered by way of rolling her eyes as the first appetizer was placed before them and explained briefly. “What was your bunny’s name, anyway?”

“Rabbit,” Regina replied simply, lifting a broiled shrimp onto her plate and peeling away the shell expertly.

“Such a surprising lack of imagination,” Emma shook her head sadly, reaching out for her own shrimp, and peeling it with much less ease than Regina had. God, was this woman good at _everything_?

“I think you’ll find that you’ll regret teasing me for my _lack of imagination,_ ” Regina replied, in a voice so low and velvety smooth it made Emma’s stomach drop, “when I choose not to share with you just how...c _reative_ I can be.”

Emma paused, the first bite midway to her mouth, and reconsidered her position at the thought that they had a sixteen-year-old at home, perfectly capable of and willing to babysit, and the fact that she _really_ wanted to see that black dress drop to her bedroom floor, uninterrupted. “You’re right, I’m sorry. You’re the most creative, perfect woman in the world and I love you.”

“Much better,” Regina smirked, and with a soft, subtle wink, she knew that she had Emma wrapped perfectly around her in every way she wanted. And somewhere in the back of her mind, she filed away a mental note to spoil Henry a little extra for suggesting this dinner in the first place. Because he _was_ right. They had skipped being a couple and jumped right into being a family; while she was grateful for that, she hadn’t realized how much she had missed by never sitting across a dinner table from Emma Swan, drunk on a little too much wine and just enough romance.

 

\--------

 

“Do you remember that god-awful pizza place we used to go to in college?” Emma asked, and Regina tilted her head to the side thoughtfully, a little, pleased smile etched unmoving on her face, the picture definition of relaxation and mirth. They had just finished their last appetizer, and were waiting with a freshly marked table for their entrees to arrive. Emma had somehow stumbled her way onto memory lane, and was attempting to drag Regina along with her.

They didn’t often discuss their youth, their days as almost-roommates in college, because it tended to be too entwined with jealousy, bitterness, drama, pregnancy, and a whole host of emotions Regina would prefer to avoid. But even she had to admit that when they’d been getting along, they’d had some good times together. That was, when she wasn’t hating Emma in an attempt to stop loving her, or despising her then-girlfriend that had become her now-roommate.

“You mean the one in Salem, or the one down the street from our house?” Regina asked, swirling the remaining wine in her third glass calmly before taking a large sip. “Because if it was the one down the street from our house, I’ll never forget the food poisoning. Or the fact that you wanted to eat there three nights a week when you found out you were pregnant.”

She swallowed hard over that last fact, remembering with a twinge how difficult it had been to coach Emma through pregnancy, uniquely qualified of all of her friends, and never disclose that she herself had once experienced every bit of it.  

“Yeah, but there was that time you got food poisoning and I had morning sickness, so you built a blanket fort across from the bathroom so that we could take turns vomiting in comfort and convenience,” Emma remembered fondly. “My hero.”

“Until Ruby came home, and quite literally shoved her way between us.” Regina’s tone soured, and Emma cringed because that was, in fact, what had happened. “So I went up to my own apartment and didn’t see you for days...until you needed me again, because you were depending on your useless, disappointing ex-girlfriend, and I just couldn’t help myself.”

Emma knew that she was right, and the jab was warranted, but that didn’t stop the way it settled like cement somewhere in her midsection. “I wasn’t fair to you then. I didn’t know. I regret that now.”

Regina shrugged, her gaze diverted down and somewhere to the left from Emma’s face. “Water under the bridge, dear. Though I can’t say I’m fond of the fact that you’ve _still_ lived with her.”

“I understand,” Emma agreed, “And I’ve been...wanting to talk to you about that.”

But just then, the entrees arrived, leading more naturally into a different discussion of food, bringing laughter and joy as the rest of their date materialized perfectly. It became clearer with each moment that they _had_ needed this, and Regina bemused this aloud as only the small serving of potatoes remained between them, each of them taking a few last bites. “Why don’t we ever just fry potatoes like this at home? It’s so simple...but _so_ good.”

“I don’t know, but I feel like we’ve had these before,” Emma agreed, plucking a whole fried clove of garlic from the bowl and popping it into her mouth. “And the snow, the wine... I don’t know. Tonight feels familiar. I’ve been feeling a _lot_ of deja vu lately.”

“Me too,” Regina confessed, and with a confirming nod to the busser, the bowl and their remaining plates and silverware were cleared away, leaving before them a blank space begging to be filled with dessert. “But I’m not sure why.”

“Probably a coincidence. It’ll pass,” Emma shrugged, and turned on a polite, warm smile as their server arrived carrying a smaller, flimsier menu.

“Not now,” Regina interrupted as she opened her mouth to, undoubtedly, suggest dessert, and her face dropped into a glare at Regina’s dismissive tone.

“Sorry,” Emma mouthed, turned away from a distracted Regina who had begun to peruse the cocktail menu for an after-dinner drink, and offered an apologetic smile to the girl who shrugged one shoulder in response, giving her a conspiring, slightly judgemental look as if to say, _well, it’s your date, not mine_. Several moments passed in which Emma simply watched Regina read over her options, a bemused smirk blossoming across her mouth.

“What?” Regina huffed, not quite enjoying the way Emma was looking at her.

“Nothing,” Emma shook her head and reached across the table to snatch the drinks menu from Regina’s relaxed hand. “I just never realized you were such a brat. I’m actually a little surprised that I’m not turned off by it. Kind of the opposite, actually.”

“I am _not_ a brat,” Regina argued, incredulous. “What makes you say that?”

"Regina, you are every server’s worst nightmare and you don’t even know it,” Emma laughed, meeting her affronted gaze with an affectionate grin. “You know they’re all standing behind the bar talking about it right now, don’t you?”

Regina scoffed, crossing one arm over the other in front of her chest as she leaned back in her chair away from the accusal. But a slight shift of her head to the side afforded her confirmation that their little redhead was, in fact, huddled behind the bar, seemingly in hushed, deep conversation with the two bartenders, sparing glances their way every few moments. She turned back to Emma, who shook with silent mirth, her smile tucked behind her hand but obvious by way of crinkled eyes.

“Well, that’s their problem,” Regina huffed, but Emma could tell that she was bothered by the way she kept cutting her eyes over to the bar. “I’m sure I would know after thirty-two years of dining if I were some kind of _nightmare._ ”

Before Emma could respond, there were suddenly two small, crystal glasses with deep bowls being placed gently in the middle of the table, filled with a dark amber liquid. Emma and Regina both looked down at them, and then up to their server in confusion.

“Compliments of the bar. You’re Emma, right?” She asked, an explanation that was more perplexing than helpful. “You own the Rabbit Hole?”

“I am,” Emma confirmed, looking to Regina as though she’d be able to offer a better answer as to what was happening, though she offered nothing but an equally confused expression. They were an hour away from home, in a city that neither of them frequented.

“Milo’s from Storybrooke,” she explained, nodding over to the bartender with huge, round glasses, his hair parted right down the middle, shirt unbuttoned slightly. He gave a little wave and a smile. “And he says you run the best bar he’s ever been to. So these are from him; two neat pours of Remy Martin 1738.”

“Wow, well, tell him thank you,” Emma requested, feeling quite moved and uplifted, which was met with a polite nod and smile, “I love cognac.This is great.”

“That’s lovely of him,” Regina agreed warmly, pride in Emma glowing behind her eyes as she lifted her own glass to her nose to inhale deeply the welcoming scent. “Of course your bar is the best, darling.”

“Not such a rat hole now, is it?” Emma smiled, no malice behind her tone as she teased Regina for her previous derision.

“It never was.” Regina smiled softly, and they gently clinked their glasses together in a toast. “And anyway, I’m just happy to know they were talking about _you_ , not _me._ I told you I’m not a nightmare.”

She looked to the girl still standing beside their table, who had remained there to try again to take a dessert order, as though for confirmation or camaraderie.

“Oh no, you’re definitely a nightmare,” she confirmed in a rather pleasant tone, and a burst of delighted laughter escaped Emma at the sheer embarrassment painted across Regina’s face. “But you’re with Emma, and we know she’s one of us, so we’ll let it slide.”

Regina slumped down the slightest bit, crestfallen though she tried to hide it, and Emma tilted her head in amused pity. “Don’t worry, Regina. We’ll work on it. You’ll be a model guest in no time.”

“You’re mocking me,” Regina commented blithely, but there was a little tilt upward at the end of her statement that could _just_ turn it into a question if Emma chose to answer it.

“A little,” she admitted, and she half- stood up and leaned across the table to plant a firm, earnest kiss right on Regina’s lips; she realized with the increased pounding of her heart that it was the first time she’d ever done that in public, and she _loved_ it. She settled back into her seat, and while she still had her distracted, slipped her credit card into the server’s hand beneath the table without attracting Regina’s attention. “But come on, there had to be _something_ to make you a little less perfect. It was getting to be exhausting, to be honest.”

“You _do_ have such a way with women, don’t you?” Regina smiled, big and bright, and Emma’s heart skipped several beats at the way her eyes sparkled in the low light of the room, focused solely and unwaveringly on her. It was beautiful.

It was everything.

“Just one,” Emma replied, reaching out without breaking their eye contact to receive the proffered guest check book and sign for it as the girl sidled up to their table once more. “Now what do you say we get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Regina joked. Even still, the reply was a little breathless, and Emma didn’t know when her foot had slipped out of her shoe (perhaps sometime during the third glass of wine), but as it was caressing further up Emma’s leg beneath the table, Emma thought perhaps she’d never signed her name to anything faster, removing a crisp hundred-dollar note from her clutch purse and placing it into the server’s hand. She glanced up and met the sight of Regina’s lower lip held gently between her teeth in a bite, her eyes burning directly into Emma’s own, and she abruptly felt much too warm.

“You were great. Tell Milo we love him,” she asked quickly, and with a hand pressed to the small of Regina’s back, they practically dashed from the dining room, leaving a bemused, confused, and well-paid server in their wake with no doubt about why exactly they were in such a hurry to leave.

 

\--------

 

If Emma had ever experienced a more tortuous hour than the drive back to Storybrooke from Portland, she couldn’t remember it. Even without meeting the business end of a bottle of wine, Regina was affectionate at best, and downright handsy at worst. And right now, she had one hand buried deeply in Emma’s hair near the nape of her neck, the other dragging her nails up and down the exposed skin of her thighs, her lips moving over and over every bit of Emma’s shoulder and neck that she could reach.

Emma, meanwhile, was doing everything she could to focus on the road, although with one hand secured firmly around the steering wheel, she couldn’t help but allow the other to wander up and down Regina’s back, moving wistfully over the length of the zipper that she longed to undo. She was only human, after all, and it was a _really_ sexy dress.

On a _really_ sexy woman. One that was completely overwhelming every sense Emma possessed, with the deep, dark beat of some song thrumming through the speakers, into the air around them and reverberating through Emma’s very soul, or it seemed.

“How much longer?” Regina breathed against Emma’s collarbone, and Emma closed her eyes as briefly as she could afford at the feeling of the warm exhale against her flushed skin. This woman was going to be the death of her, she just knew it, provided that she could survive the next-

“Fifteen minutes,” she replied, and Regina cooled slightly, returning to her own seat and clearing her throat, though her left hand slowly glided down Emma’s body from her hair to take up the task of the right in teasing her thigh just beneath the hem of her dress.  “From your house, anyway.”

“I don’t want to go home,” Regina frowned, her brow furrowing at the thought, and she glanced at Emma sideways, her gaze roving up and down her body. Emma had never felt so _examined_ by her before; while they were certainly intimate, there were still walls surrounding motes surrounding walls around Regina at home, and Emma found herself reluctant to return to a place where she had to climb over them to feel close to her.

“Where are we going, then?”

“Take me somewhere else,” Regina implored impulsively, her palm flattening against Emma’s thigh and sliding fully beneath her dress, drifting dangerously toward the space between her legs. “Take me anywhere else. Just... _take_ me.”

And Emma didn’t need to be told twice; within half a moment, she rewired their route in her head, making a sudden decision and crossing three lanes to take the next right; it would take them further through Storybrooke, toward the water, toward the first opportunity they would have in so long to be alone.

She was taking her home. To _her_ home.

A jolt of excitement tore through Emma at the thought. While Regina had paid more than a few visits to the loft, either to pick up Leila or drop off Henry, there were always so many occupants of the space that she hadn’t been keen on staying for very long, particularly if Ruby was around. But these days, with only Emma staying there amidst repainting, replacing furniture, and the overall remodel of the building in general, there would be nothing and no one there to interrupt them. _Finally._

It had been a long time since Emma had brought a woman home to the loft. The women in her life had been few and far between, none ever seeming to stick around seriously, and so it had been on the rare occasion when perhaps Henry had been away with Graham or she found herself otherwise alone or lonely that she’d allowed a flirtation at her bar to develop to the point of dragging some eager, enthusiastic woman upstairs for just a night. She had absolutely never done so with someone she loved. And so when she threw the car into park, rushing around the side of it to open Regina’s door for her, she had to call upon every ounce of decorum she possessed as she grasped the other woman by the hand and dragged her up the side stairs to the door of the loft.

“For the love of god, Emma,” Regina complained as the she struggled to fit the key into the lock, her hands wrapping easily and confidently around Emma’s waist, moving the curtain of blonde hair to the side to once again gain access to that spot between her neck and shoulder that Regina loved to kiss. She attached her lips to it as though drawn there magnetically, and Emma groaned as her head fell automatically to the side to make it easier for her.

“I’m trying,” Emma gasped, for Regina had snuck her hands beneath Emma’s coat and begun to slowly drag the zipper of Emma’s dress down, and she knew she’d just end up taking her right against the door if she couldn’t open it quickly enough. They had waited too long; with nothing in their way for the first time ever, they were both hurtling towards a finish without actually bothering to run the race. Emma knew they needed to slow down, but Regina’s hands were like fire on her bare skin as the back of her dress parted and began to fall away.

They tumbled through the door as Emma ultimately managed to turn the key, and she was able to divest herself of the cumbersome coat and kick her dress away without stumbling over it as Regina, too, slid her trench coat off and guided them towards the middle of the room. Her last piece of furniture had arrived that morning, a large, luxurious sectional couch, and Emma found herself grateful for the fortuitous timing of that as Regina shoved her down onto it, a predatory glint in her eye as she moved to straddle Emma’s waist, her dress riding up over her thighs as she settled on her lap.

“I like what you’ve done with the space,” Regina commented breathlessly, barely sparing a glance at the rest of the room as she wrapped her arms around Emma’s neck, arching her back into her body to aid Emma in tugging her own zipper down desperately.

“You should see the bedroom,” Emma suggested, appreciating the fluid way Regina moved to allow Emma to tug the slinky black dress over her head and toss it across the room, leaving her in nothing but devastatingly gorgeous, blood-red lace. “But I don’t think we’ll make it there.”

“Not if you know what’s good for you,” Regina murmured into her mouth and captured Emma’s lips in a hungry, frenzied kiss. And while they had shared many kisses before, she felt that this was unlike any other. She wanted to _consume_ Emma; she wanted to devour her and destroy her and revive her and be _inside_ her. And with Emma; sweet, soft Emma, dipping her tongue into her mouth slowly and yet dragging her nails down Regina’s back so fiercely, she knew she was going to try.

Emma gasped; Regina’s hands were everywhere, it seemed, rushing from their place wrapped around Emma’s neck and drifting down her stomach to her hips so that she could hardly keep up with them; that was, until Regina placed the fingertips of one hand very deliberately just below Emma’s belly button, the other coming to rest softly against Emma’s chest.

“I’m going to fuck you, Emma,” she explained simply, and Emma’s head fell back against the couch at the feeling of those fingertips moving slowly, torturously lower, beneath black satin, and she couldn’t help the cry that escaped her as Regina touched her for the first time. “And I never want to stop.”

Emma had never before thought that she might quite literally die under the hands of another, but the way Regina moved against her, pressing softly in precisely the right places, made her feel lighter than air; like she might drift away at any moment if not for the perfect body above her, holding her in place. For Regina had maneuvered them so well Emma had hardly noticed until she realized she was stretched lengthwise along one side of the couch, Regina still straddling her hips, commanding the body beneath her with such ease and so nonverbally that Emma wondered absently whether she might just be a little psychic.

“Don’t move,” Regina commanded, and Emma wouldn’t have dreamed of disobeying her.

The sudden, loud blaring of a car alarm sounded from somewhere below them, and Regina pressed on, unaffected, her unoccupied hand running smoothly up and down Emma’s body, squeezing and caressing relentlessly. Emma, however, was struggling to enjoy her actions with the background noise.

“Regina,” she pleaded, though her hips lurched forward in response to the slow, light circling of the fingers teasing her _just so._ “Regina, that’s your car.”

“It’s insured,” Regina sighed, kissing her way down Emma’s neck and across her chest, placing a firm one right in the middle. “I don’t care if they steal it. I’m not stopping.”

“Regina,” Emma insisted, and with a determination she couldn’t even get behind, she gently eased Regina off of her, rising from the couch and leaving the frustrated, confused woman to glare at her departure, equal parts disheveled, flushed, and bewildered. “We can’t just let it make noise like that. I’m going to check it out.”

“You do that,” Regina seethed, sobering instantly, and she crossed her arms and leaned back into the cushions, looking anywhere but into Emma’s pleading gaze.

“I’ll be right back,” Emma assured her, shrugging her long, discarded coat over her shoulders and wrapping it around herself. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“Where...would I go?” Regina huffed, mostly to herself as she watched Emma disappear through the door and down the stairs, sweeping the car keys from a side table, and knowing that the other woman was right. But they had been _so_ close. _Again_.

The alarm continued to sound, and Regina breathed a long sigh, allowing her head to drop against the back of the couch as she fought the swirling in her head. She had maybe had the _slightest_ bit too much wine, but it was so easy to indulge with Emma, in Emma. And that was why, at first, she thought she must have been even more drunk than she thought at the sound of movement from within another room. Her heart began to pound, her eyes screwed closed, counting in her head the number of steps between where she sat and the door, between her and Emma and-

“Oh good, you two are done then?”

Her eyes shot open, her head falling forward and aching in its momentum at the sight of the long, lean brunette leaned against a bedroom doorway, clad only in a large white men’s v-neck and a tall pair of brightly (and strangely) patterned socks.

“Jesus, Ruby, what the hell are you _doing_ here?” Regina pressed a hand to her chest in alarm, realizing suddenly how very little she herself was wearing in the wake of Emma’s departure. She jumped up and reached blindly for her coat, folding herself into it and wrapping it around her body like her own personal armor. 

“I...live here?” Ruby reminded her as though she possessed very little intelligence, and snorted a laugh as she crossed the room to root through the fridge, emerging after a moment with a bottle of spring water.

“You live here.” Regina repeated numbly, and as she processed this new information, she vaguely acknowledged the sudden quiet that meant Emma must have silenced the car alarm. “With Emma.”

“I would have thought that much was clear,” Ruby mused in that same mocking tone, and Regina could have reached out and smacked her. It was as though nearly twenty years of hatred were boiling her blood, and though she wanted to more than anything, she resisted crossing the space between them and throttling her. She had always known and acknowledged, somewhere deep inside her, that Ruby had likely done very little to actually earn her lifelong ire, but it seemed lately that she intended to earn it with gusto. “Since Emma does, in fact, live here too.”

Regina seethed again, but said nothing. Where the _hell_ was Emma?

 

\--------

 

In the end, Emma had been unable to deduce why, exactly, Regina’s car alarm had gone off, other than that the universe must really not have wanted her to get laid. She wasn’t sure who she had pissed off, cosmically, but she was on the verge of writing a strongly worded letter about it. _To whom it may concern,_ she began in her head, chuckling with private amusement at her own cleverness as she locked the car once more and made her way back upstairs. _If I don’t get to have sex with Regina Mills, and soon, I am going to spontaneously combust. Best, Emma Swan._

There, she thought, the Powers That Be ought to be satisfied with that. And with that thought, she swung the door open, actually a little grateful for the interruption as it had given them both unexpected time to calm down and perhaps enjoy themselves as they should. Nothing, however, could have prepared her for the sight that met her upon opening that door.

Regina and Ruby (whom Emma hadn’t actually seen in the loft since its renovation, although she knew she’d been in and out occasionally) were squared off on either side of the kitchen, glaring daggers at one another as though Emma hadn’t entered at all.

“I know you know I’m right,” Ruby seemingly continued quietly, earning a loud scoff and disbelieving shake of Regina’s head.

“Absolutely _not_.” Regina replied in a voice so cold Emma felt it actually chilled her to the bone, rivaling the temperature she had just left outside. She turned then, fixing Emma with an equally cold stare, one that Emma hadn’t felt directed her way since way before Leila had entered their lives; perhaps since college.

“And you?” Regina acknowledged her, drawing her coat more tightly around her body, and rolled her shoulders back, lifting her chin haughtily as Emma cowered, flabbergasted and reeling. “You can go fuck yourself.”

And before Emma could even respond, maybe defend herself despite not knowing what she’d done, Regina had strode forward purposefully, snatched the keys from her outstretched hands, and gone, leaving behind a cold, hard dread in the pit of Emma’s stomach.

 

\--------

 

Emma rolled her shoulders as she prepared to open the door, finding whatever it was that waited for her. She _knew_ she’d created a mess, and in this particular instance, a monster, and it would have been better for everyone if she’d just kept her mouth shut instead of whatever she thought she’d have accomplished by talking about (and to) Ruby. She couldn’t have planned for her being there; she hadn’t lied, Ruby was not currently living in the loft again, but as per usual, luck (especially in getting _lucky_ ) just wasn’t on her side.

As Regina had picked her up for the drive out to dinner and then subsequently requested (responsibly) that Emma drive them home, she had taken her own vehicle from the bar to Mifflin Street as quickly as allowed by law in order to follow Regina. She tossed her keys into the marble bowl and sighed loudly. Every room downstairs was dark, save for the gentle glow of twinkling light provided by the enormous Christmas tree in the foyer. At this time of night, she would expect Henry to already be in bed, she could only assume Regina had stormed upstairs to the master bedroom, and Leila, well...

Leila was alone, just as Emma had expected, stretched out across the bulky, leather couch in the family room, and Emma could tell that while her computer was open on the coffee table to the screen of a half-typed document, it had been forgotten in favor of a small fire crackling in the hearth below a Hallmark movie she vaguely recognized.

Leila perked up from over the back of the couch at her entrance, nodding solemnly to acknowledge Emma’s arrival before returning her attention to the movie, though she lowered the volume significantly. “So...” she drawled, and Emma knew whatever was about to come out of her mouth couldn’t be good news. “What’d you do to upset her so royally?”

She sighed again, dropping into the recliner with a dull thud. “What do you mean?”

She knew exactly what Leila meant.

“She stormed in here, wouldn’t talk to me, and then ran at me desperately like she was going to give me a hug, slammed on the breaks, and then ran upstairs instead.” Emma detected just a hint of a grimace at the quick, unprompted show of affection, which quickly turned into a pout. “I asked her if she was okay, and she just kinda shrugged and then went upstairs. She didn’t even take off her coat. I thought better of chasing after her.”

“Probably for the best.” Emma nodded. “ We weren’t exactly ready to come home when our meal was finished, so we decided to... have a few more drinks at the loft.”

Leila gave her a skeptical, narrowed eye, and Emma knew that Leila knew better. But she wasn’t going to tell _her_ that. “Except Ruby happened to already be there, unannounced, and I assume gave Regina a really hard time. It was _not_ how this evening was supposed to end.”

Leila cringed slightly at the implication. “Yeah, no kidding. What was Ruby’s problem?”

“I don’t know. Something about Regina creeping in on her back up plan like she always does and how it would _behoove_ her to give up. I didn’t even know she knew the word behoove! And I definitely didn’t know she was there. I’ve been staying there by myself, but I’m sure now Regina wouldn’t believe me- it’s just a mess.”

“Don’t you think it’s time to retire the sorority house and grow up?” Leila suggested calmly, though Emma noted the hint of judgement behind her tone that some part of her resented, especially knowing she had a point. “Ruby obviously isn’t doing much of that, I _know_ she irritates Tink, and there seems to be a lot of unresolved baggage surrounding her that you aren’t dealing with. Maybe before you speak to Regina, you should sort through whatever that shit is so you can give her some kind of resolution. She deserves that.”

Emma blanched. Where was the bratty teenager who, not twelve hours ago, was storming out of the kitchen for being told she should work on her homework? Regina most definitely had been rubbing off on her. Before she could respond, Leila continued.

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s a lot of fun and I really like her. And I know she’s important to you. But my mom is,” she gestured with her hands in front of her, not quite sure she could convey exactly _what_ she was, but landed on something resembling an explosion while also trying to encompass everything that surrounded them in the house. “She’s, y’know? _Regina_. I know you know exactly what I mean.”

Emma absolutely did. But instead of using words, she nodded and stood, walked over to the couch, and planted a firm kiss right on the top of the girl’s head. “Don’t let her go to sleep, okay? Stall for me, you’re good at that.” And after a run upstairs to change into more comfortable, practical clothes, she shrugged her coat on over them once more and made her way out of the house towards (hopefully) some kind of resolution.

 

\--------

 

Emma stormed up the stairs to the loft, flung the still-unlocked door open so hard it banged into the wall behind it, and scanned the room. She found Ruby, legs perched over the arm of the new couch, the latest edition of a food magazine open in front of her face. “Alright, what’s your problem, Ruby?”

“ _Woah_ , hello to you too.” Her gaze flicked above the pages to meet Emma’s, an annoyed glint behind her eyes. And Emma, who had been this woman’s best friend since the age of five, _knew_ that they were about to have the worst fight of their lives. “So I guess this is how it’s going to be now, is it? I should expect to find the mayor naked on our couch without warning?”

“If that’s what I want, yes,” Emma replied coolly. “As it’s _my_ couch and _my_...mayor.” Her brow furrowed, her argument fading into confusion as she, once again, stumbled over what to call Regina. That wasn’t the point, though. “Why are you here? I’ve been staying here for days and I haven’t seen you. Haven’t you been at Granny’s? “

“I have been,” Ruby confirmed, and she let the magazine flap closed, tossing it onto the gleaming, wooden coffee table as she swung her legs back onto the floor and rose to a seated position. “But I knew things were almost done here and I wanted to come home. I didn’t think you’d care. We’ve been living together...our whole lives, basically.”

“Yeah, we have…” Emma agreed slowly, dropping her keys onto the table by the door, and walked further into the room. She paused by the opposite end of the couch and remained standing, her arms crossed over her chest. “Maybe we should talk about that.”

“Maybe,” Ruby sneered, her eyes rolling as she smoothly gathered up all of her hair to throw it over one shoulder, the streaks of red glinting as it settled around her body once more. “I suppose _Her Majesty_ has a problem with it?”

“Oh, come on, Ruby, cut the crap,” Emma huffed, and found herself resisting the temptation to stomp her foot in frustration. “What did you say to her? Being a bully isn’t really your style, so why have you always been such a _bitch_ when it comes to Regina _?_ She’s never done anything to you.”

Ruby shrugged and crossed her arms, mirroring Emma’s position although still seated. “I just think Regina has never known how to stay away from what was mine, that’s all.”

“What’s _yours_?” Emma cried, incredulous. She finally joined Ruby on the couch, seated opposite her, a safe distance between them. “You can’t mean... _me._ ”

Emma had no choice but to take Ruby’s strained silence as confirmation, and her mind reeled over the admission. She felt herself replaying every interaction of their last several years together, searching for any indication that Ruby had wanted anything more than friendship.

She had always known that she was Ruby’s “back up plan;” there had even been times when she’d joked about Ruby being the same to her. It only made sense, after all. They’d loved each other deeply for as long as they could remember, childhood best friends turned into brief college lovers turned into adult roommates. In a time of her life before there had been Regina, she could even admit with a twinge of regretful understanding, now, that she’d always thought of Ruby as _hers_ in much the same way.

They’d been through it time and time again. Ruby would break up with someone and come running to Emma immediately to be comforted, usually in tears. Maybe they’d end up in bed together; maybe they wouldn’t.  Either way, it always continued for a few months; the attention, the affection, the all-day-every-day texts. It just felt too good to feel wanted and she was too good of a person (or _weak_ , truthfully) to put an end to it.

It had been years, though, since Emma had fallen into that pattern. The last time they’d spent the night together _like that_ had been some time around Henry’s fourth birthday, and they hadn’t even come close to crossing the line since; Emma would be lying, though, if she didn’t admit the tiniest twinge of jealousy each time Ruby brought someone new home.

But she had been the pillar, the constant in her life, through every season of it. She was Emma’s best friend, and she couldn’t imagine her world without her in it. 

But she had still somehow been that hurt, rejected twenty-something in college who followed Ruby faithfully, even with their on again/off again unhealthy relationship. Ruby was her first choice--until Regina crawled her way into her heart and made herself at home - _a home -_ and then she’d realized it was her all along.

She realized then that Ruby was staring at her.

“I just _mean_ …” the other woman began slowly, her teeth clenching over a bright red lip as her eyes rolled upward in thought before roving back to Emma. “Emma, I love you. So much. You know that. You’re my best friend in the world. We’ve always done life together.”

Emma nodded and looked down, and her heart clinched at the opening lines of a script she’d been listening to since their adolescence. “I know.”

Ruby smiled softly, and Emma couldn’t quite make eye contact. They _had_ done life together, yes, and it had been happy. But while they made fantastic roommates and great friends, Emma knew she’d been resting on Ruby’s back burner, kept warm until she was needed. Ruby had never made any such requests for her time and attention when she had been chronically single. It was simply the fact that her relationship with Regina had become so serious that seemed to be spurring her on now to secure her place.

“I just think it will be best for everyone if you just admit to yourself, and Regina, that in the end you know you’ll be with me.”

That stung. They hadn’t been _together_ in enough time that Emma had more or less forgotten what it would even be like to be in a relationship with the other woman; thinking of it now was jarring. “Ruby, you can’t just assume I’m always going to be there for you.”

“Well...you always have been.” She said it as though it was the most obvious truth, and that was perhaps, somehow, worse.

“And you’ve been awful to me,” Emma pointed out, and Ruby began to form a rebuttal but quickly closed her mouth again upon Emma’s continuance. “For _years_ you knew, didn’t you? That I’d wait. Ever since college, I’ve been waiting around for you. Always home to greet you after whichever man or woman you entertained before me. Used me and abused me for my attention, my love, my…”

She trailed off then, and thought immediately of Regina as the words spilled forth, words she never thought she’d say aloud to Ruby.

It was everything she’d ever done to Regina without ever realizing it.

“I have to go.” Emma stated, completely derailing her train of thought and throwing Ruby for a loop. She stood suddenly, the mood altered along with her. “I need your key. It’s time for you to go. I want you out by Friday.”

Ruby, with a look of numb disbelief, nodded; there was no arguing the point anymore. Something between them had cracked.

“Fine,” she replied, launching herself hastily up from the couch towards her purse, rooting around for her keys for a moment until she produced and detached the one Emma was looking for. “Take it.”

They stared at one another then, a long, contemplative look, and Emma felt her heart break for reasons altogether utterly unromantic. A long, lone tear spilled from Ruby’s eye and rolled down her cheek aggressively, her lips drawn in a familiar, soft pout.

“Goodbye, Ruby."

 

\--------

 

With a tender, sad heart and a firm resolve, Emma made her way to Regina’s house. Every red light felt longer than the one before it, and her fingers drummed on the steering wheel impatiently.

She couldn’t believe how much time she had spent dismissing Regina’s feelings when they had so closely mirrored some of her very own, long-buried and forgotten. It was easy to forget that, often, they were more similar than they were wildly different. Much in the same way Regina had done for Emma, Emma had always made herself available to Ruby should the opportunity present itself. And she’d been making fun of _Regina_ for years of unrequited feelings? It made her stomach turn with guilt. How had she been so oblivious and dismissive? So cruel?

She sped up just the littlest bit, practically gliding through the deserted streets of Storybrooke, the town on the verge of sleep at the late hour. She desperately needed to get home to Regina, wanted to apologize, to fix things, to see her. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

She just barely managed to park her car behind Regina’s sleek, black vehicle before practically throwing herself out of the door and towards the house. She unlocked the door as if on autopilot, immediately charging through to the family room in search of Leila, who somehow seemed to have an omnipotent knowledge of the house, its occupants, and their whereabouts at all times.

She was, as expected, still stretched lithely across the surface of the couch, the fire still crackling its warmth and a new movie playing on the screen above it.  Leila popped up upon hearing Emma’s entrance, the faux fur blanket falling from around her shoulders as she turned and regarded her over the back of the couch. She tilted her head and looked at her quizzically. “Hey. Where’s the fire?”

“Very funny. Where is she?” Emma would ordinarily have lingered, perhaps sat on the opposite end of the couch to spend a few moments with the girl, but she was practically bursting with the need to see Regina.

Leila sighed. “She came downstairs a little while ago. She’s in her study. I told her you wanted to talk to her.”

Emma nodded, and spared a moment to share a soft, thankful smile . “Thanks.”

As she disappeared towards the other end of the house, Leila shook her head as she rose from the couch, gathered her things, turned off the fireplace, and headed up to bed.

“Will those two ever get their shit together?” She wondered aloud to no one in particular, knowing that if her two lovable, idiotic mothers could just figure it out and be happy….well, she wanted nothing more for them, but would still prefer to maintain a solid distance from that eventuality.

 

\--------

 

For the first time in quite a while, Regina had absolutely no desire to see Emma Swan, and the sudden change of intention within her was jarring.

She was sure that eventually, Emma would seek her out after what she assumed would be a long overdue conversation with her infuriating roommate; but then again, (and she saw red once more at the thought,) maybe nothing between them was _long overdue_ at all.

While she knew rationally, logically, that her brain was stumbling and tripping over itself to create increasingly wilder scenarios to justify her insecurity, she couldn’t stop herself from revisiting every conversation of late where Emma had decided to stay at the loft instead of being with her, and wondering anew the motivation behind that decision.  

_Don’t do that, it’s unfair_ , Regina reprimanded herself sharply as she ascended the stairs towards her bedroom, stomping over each one harder than the last. _You agreed together that she should stay away. There’s no other reason behind that._

She repeated this to herself like a pledge while her body moved as though on autopilot through the motions of becoming more comfortable; she shrugged off her trench coat, which she would ordinarily have hung neatly in the coat closet downstairs, but she’d needed it to cover the fact that she had come home without her dress entirely. She shrugged into the softest, warmest sweatshirt she could find, paired with worn, stretched yoga pants that made her body feel at home, a far cry from the glamour and seduction she’d chosen for date night. _There we go_ , she thought with relief, and was briefly amazed at how simply a wardrobe change could make her feel better.

As she wandered from her closet into the en suite bathroom to remove her makeup, avoiding her puffy-eyed, tired gaze in the mirror, she wondered whether what Ruby had said could be true. _Did_ Emma intend to spend the rest of her life with Ruby, and was she simply using Regina as a placeholder for the time in between? She’d thought she’d known the answer beyond a shadow of a doubt, and with harsh fingertips that spread a scrub across her face to give it a thorough wash, she knew she was attempting to scrub her insecurity away along with everything else.

Could Emma truly choose Ruby? Was it even a matter to consider in the first place? She felt ridiculously juvenile for even entertaining the notion. Wasn’t she confident about everything they’d spent months building? The plans they’d made? The life they lived together every day?

Maybe it had all been a mistake, she worried, splashing warm water over her face as she leaned over the sink. Perhaps she had read too much into every interaction with Emma. Or perhaps, even, she had begun to project her own years of unrequited, buried feelings onto Emma, hoping that she’d somehow catch up and fall right in line with what Regina had always wanted?

She felt ridiculous even questioning it after everything they’d been through together in such a short time, but there was something about the confidence in Ruby’s voice that left her feeling a little shook. She rubbed a moisturizer into her cheeks and across her forehead, her brow furrowing in the mirror, lips pursed in deep thought. No, there was no way she’d been making it all up. Emma couldn’t fabricate six months of delicious, excruciating tension, nor would there be anything to gain from doing so. Ruby was possessive, maybe a little jealous, and most importantly, _wrong_. Regina was sure of it, and her companion in the mirror nodded as though to support her decision.

Except Emma hadn’t returned (though Regina _had_ left her with some choice words, she realized) and she could only stand to pace the length of her bedroom a few times before she reluctantly decided to pad downstairs towards her home office. If she was going to be awake, stressed out, and on edge, then perhaps at least she could push through some work she’d set on the back burner in order to go on their date in the first place.

She started the fire in the tiny hearth as though on autopilot, seeking out every bit of comfort she could provide for herself while her heart ached and her mind reeled. Perhaps it wasn’t work she was seeking out at all; while she’d meant to open her laptop and mindlessly send out emails, it seemed her body had different plans altogether. The red leather couch was already faced directly in front of the fire, piled high with blankets of varying thickness, and while she willed herself to at least do something productive like read a novel, she found she could do nothing more than stare into the flames as they licked higher and higher.

Regina wasn’t sure how long she’d been lying there before she heard perhaps the softest, most subtle knock that had ever hit her door. It lacked the confidence of Leila’s movements, and it was far too late to be Henry’s, so she was left to suppose that Emma must have come home after all. And although she made no effort to answer, she heard the door swing open anyway, and before long there stood Emma before her, wearing both an awful, faded, red leather jacket and the most pathetic, regretful look Regina had ever seen cross her face. She stood at the end of the couch in a shared silence for longer than either of them were used to. Ultimately, she couldn’t help the slight shiver that wracked her body, still feeling the chill from outside trapped in her jacket, and though Regina rolled her eyes at the sight, she lifted a corner of one of her blankets, inviting Emma to slide beneath it.

It infuriated Regina that Emma could make her feel so crazy, so unsure, could send her into a flying rage across time and space, and _still_ she longed to be nearer to her with each moment that passed. She resisted, though, pointedly ignoring the pleading way Emma kept glancing in her direction. It would not do to break character now, she knew. For once, she’d left a situation between them with the upper hand, and she wasn’t looking forward to relinquishing her hold on the power balance the moment Emma opened her mouth and melted her once more.

Emma, as expected, opened and closed her mouth a few times, seemingly searching for whatever it was she wanted to say, and Regina saw from the corner of her eye that she had reached one hand into her jacket pocket, toying with something within. It took another few minutes before she’d either put the final touches on her prepared speech or gathered the courage to soldier on without one. Either way, she did open her mouth and allow a demand to fall from it.

“Give me your hand.”

Regina’s eyes narrowed into slits, giving them both pause before choosing her answer without even turning her head to meet Emma’s eyes.

“I assure you, Emma Swan, that I have absolutely no desire to play even one of your games right now.”

“It’s not a game, just...look. Okay?” Emma implored her, and although her mind protested the action entirely, she couldn’t stop her hand from reaching out, her palm extended upward towards the other woman. She closed her eyes, the rest of her still faced forward and away from Emma as much as possible. At the feeling of cool metal being deposited onto her outstretched hand, her eyes opened immediately, taking in the sight of a small, silver key glinting by the fire’s light, and Emma’s equally bright eyes so much nearer to her than they were before.

“What is this?” Regina murmured, hating the way she could feel heat radiating from Emma’s thigh as it came within inches of hers beneath the blanket, hating the way she craved it, for reasons owed not entirely to the cold.

“It’s Ruby’s key,” Emma explained softly, and for the first time since she’d entered, their eyes met.

“Why are you giving me Ruby’s key?” Regina asked slowly, as though it were a piece to a puzzle she couldn’t quite make fit. Was Emma trying to replace Ruby with Regina at the loft? But that wouldn’t make sense, she figured, as their children were already so settled and comfortable. And why was it _Ruby’s_ key?

“I asked her to move out. Well, told her to, actually,” Emma replied, and Regina’s heart sank as she began calculating each of her next moves. Emma had thrown her for a loop.

“You did _what_?”

“I’ve been wrong about all of it, from the very beginning. It took me all of ten seconds to realize that what she's done to me is exactly...” she paused, and such a heavy sigh escaped her body Regina thought perhaps she saw the flames shift just so. She noted the pained look in her eyes, one she'd never seen before, and she instinctively reached to grasp her hand that had snuck its way back under the blanket. Emma looked up, sighed again, and continued. “She does to me what I've _always_ done to you and I knew it would only be fair to you if I removed the problem like you removed Robin. I wanted to fix it.”

“I need you to understand something, Emma.” Regina stopped her there, not quite believing that she needed to actually explain this. “Robin and I were living two _very_ separate lives in the same household. We both felt stuck for reasons that are no longer relevant, but we will always be best friends first.”

Emma nodded, briefly reaching out to tuck a fallen lock of Regina’s hair behind her ear, and smiled, nonverbally prompting her to continue. With a sweet, soft smile in return, Regina did.

“So while the obstacle of our intimate relationship has been removed, he will always be in my life. Ruby has been your best friend since you were children. _She_ is not an obstacle that needs to be removed. The inappropriate _intimacy_ the two of you dance around in your relationship must be if you're going to enter into one with me long term.”

Emma blanched. It was no secret to anyone that Emma’s proclivity for pursuing multiple romantic connections at once had burned her before. Regina shared no such predisposition, excluding those few months straddling the line between Emma and Robin. Regina pressed on.

“Go to her tomorrow and give her her key back. But this time, help her grow as a person and make her pay rent. Be her landlord and her boss and her best friend, just decide whether you’d rather be _her_ sometimes lover, or my _always_ lover.”

Emma hung her head, unable to stop the shame blossoming from somewhere deep within her midsection and extending to the very tips of her fingers and toes. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t ever have to apologize to me for who your friends are, Emma, unless they mistreat you. Or me,” she added as an afterthought, “and I’m never going to ask you to choose me in favor of another relationship in your life. It’s childish. But there is a difference between prioritizing your relationships, and actively choosing a friendship over your wife.”

“My _what_?” Emma replied breathlessly,  and Regina paused, one single heartbeat, and then continued on nonplussed.

“Choosing friendship over me.”

“You said wife,” Emma accused, a hint of disbelieving amusement coloring the back of her tone.

“I most certainly did not. You’re projecting.”

“You said _wife_ ,” Emma repeated, and she did nothing to conceal the bright, glowing grin that sprang up unbidden at the thought. “You _love_ me. You want to _marry_ me.”

“Over my dead body,” Regina countered haughtily, though Emma could feel the tension fleeing the other woman’s body as she stretched more languidly across the space between them, her legs extending over Emma’s lap. And as for Emma, well, she always knew exactly when she’d be able to fit perfectly against Regina. 

She slid the length of her body slowly along the back of the couch, relishing the smooth leather against the same material of her jacket as she settled in behind the other woman. They molded together at every point, and as Regina tugged the bottommost blanket more fully over the both of them, Emma tucked a hand against Regina’s hip, the other moving to cradle Regina’s neck. For as panicked and unsure as she’d been when she walked in, Emma wasn’t sure she had ever felt so comfortable and happy as she did in this moment. Confident and secure in where they stood, with Regina wrapped in the coziest clothes and the softest blankets and Emma herself. The fire burned evermore, glowing dimly and just for them, and after such a long, harrowing night of dramatic events and conversations they hadn’t expected, Emma was grateful to just _be._ There was still the impending potential visit from Cora, and Christmas, and the opening of the bar, and the rest of their lives to attend to.

But for now, this, she knew, was perfect.

“Regina?” She murmured softly into her hair, somewhere just behind her ear, as she felt the steady, even breathing of the body held against her. She had one last thing to ask before she knew she’d succumb to the comfort of sleep and safety.

“Hmm?” Regina hummed in response, her head tilted just over her shoulder towards Emma’s quiet voice.

“ _Do_ you want to get married?” The words were barely said loudly enough to be clear, but Regina almost felt them more than she heard them anyway.

“Are you proposing?”

“No.” Emma answered delicately, but Regina felt the rapid pounding of Emma’s heart against her back that betrayed her calm exterior.

“I’ve never wanted to marry anyone….ever. I have always wanted, more than anything, the ability to decide that for myself, and to decide against it. I’ve dreamed of being able to scream the word _no_ as loudly as I possibly could.”

Emma nodded, her forehead pressed against the back of Regina’s shoulder as she fought to swallow down her own feelings on the subject. Regina had been battling the decisions that had been made for her throughout her entire adult life, and maybe even before that. The last thing she wanted was to place more of the same pressure on her.

“Is this not enough?” Regina implored desperately, and Emma could hear the fear threatening to break through the panicked tears she was holding back. “This perfect, wonderful life. This family. This unbelievable love.”

“Of course it’s enough,” Emma assured her, pressing a firm kiss to the back of her neck, one hand wrapping more firmly across the front of her body to tug Regina more closely into her. “It will always be enough.”

Though she didn’t respond verbally, the way Regina sank back into her embrace was reply enough. A hushed, reserved silence fell between them then, with only the sound of firewood crackling occasionally over the occasional, emotional sniffle from Regina, which Emma chose to politely ignore.

“But Emma?” The blonde heard suddenly after several minutes, just as she had perhaps been falling victim to sleep with Regina held securely in her arms.

“Yeah?”

“For you? With you? It might be the first time I’ve ever considered saying yes.”

  



	19. Chapter 19

 

As the days drew ever closer to Christmas, it was becoming wholly impossible for Regina to get anything productive done around the house. With Leila and Henry both out of school, there was a constant stream of holiday movies or music being blared from multiple rooms. They wandered around all day, delving in and out of the pantry as though they were incapable of ever filling themselves up, and had generally begun to drive Regina crazy; she couldn’t tell if this was truly their fault, or if she was simply on edge.

Emma, unfortunately, had been spending even less time there than she had before, throwing herself fully into her plan to re-open the Rabbit Hole on New Year’s Eve. She popped in every morning to enjoy one cup of coffee with them at breakfast, perhaps offered Regina a few stolen kisses between tasks, and for the last few nights, she’d appeared suddenly sometime after dinner but before bedtime. From within her study, Regina heard her enter through the front door and rush immediately upstairs, where she would greet Henry quietly in his room as he read before bed, allowing him to spell out another chapter of his story to her before his words faded into sleepiness and she would kiss his head softly, smooth his hair back, and plunge the room into darkness as she closed the door behind her.

Next, she’d venture across the hall to Leila’s room, where bedtime was less strictly observed. Leila tended to set her own routine, especially during the holiday break, and she would simply move her media consumption from the couch in the family room to the large, welcoming bed in her room just in time for the nightly line-up of rerun sitcoms she trusted to put her happily to sleep. Emma, somehow, was inclined to enter each night around the time when _I Dream of Jeannie_ blended easily into _Bewitched_. They’d watch together in near silence, laughing at all the right moments but not saying much else, before Leila too would drift into a comfortable slumber, leaving Emma to finally make her way downstairs and find Regina.

These greetings were less wholesome entirely. Regina, knowing full well when Emma would arrive, made it a point to go straight upstairs to her bedroom immediately following dinner, completing her nighttime routine and changing into something more comfortable, usually the same worn yoga pants and some cozy, oversized sweater that Emma would enjoy sticking her hands under.

And predictably, that was exactly what Emma did, on each of the four nights following the one after their disastrous first date. She’d rush into the study, finding Regina sprawled elegantly over blood red leather, her hair tousled against its own part _just so_ , a novel open on her lap that they both knew she was pretending to read. And Emma, who had been texting the woman throughout the day, couldn’t be bothered with the pleasantries of asking how it had been; she would simply strut forward towards Regina, divesting herself of her jacket along the way, and collapse onto her, rewarding the way Regina’s arms wound around her neck lazily and her legs around Emma’s hips with deep, dark, delicious kisses that left them both breathless, hot, and desperate for more.

But that was it. That was as far as Regina wanted things to go, with so many outside factors weighing on her so heavily. So Emma was content to replace that weight each night with her own body, pressing Regina into the couch beneath them with a fervor intended to make her forget everything else. It would happen eventually.

And until then, Emma would wind her body around Regina’s, tugging her close, and fall asleep soundly in front of a low, crackling fire, surrounded by books and warmth and love radiating from the other woman so passionately it nearly created a heat all its own. And by morning, she’d be gone again, until that first cup of coffee, poured neatly and daintily and perfectly on time.

It was their new normal.

But now, it was Friday morning, nearly one full week from the reception of her mother’s email, and Regina was starting to enter full-on panic mode. If she had expected her before now, well, she was almost certain that today would be the day she arrived, if at all. Regina and Robin would ordinarily be landing in New York at this time, preparing for a weekend of holiday frivolity, for as frivolous as Cora Mills was willing to be. And in her absence, she was positive Cora would deem it necessary to investigate further.

And of course, everything that morning seemed to go wrong. As though by some sort of elemental circumstances beyond her control, the French press had somehow burst upon Leila pouring the boiling water into it, showering the kitchen (and her first outfit) with shards of glass and hot, burning liquid. She’d shrieked, swore, and ran upstairs to change, rushing out of the door shortly after that in much more of a rush than she’d hoped to be. She arrived at Town Hall flustered and uncomfortable, and things continued to trend downward with each passing attempt at improvement.

Regina had finally settled behind her desk, scribbling times feverishly onto a large written calendar (because some things she still preferred to do by hand) and any spare attention she had to give was directed mainly on writing the next week’s City Council agenda.

“Mayor Mills?”

The intercom buzzed to life, the timid voice of her secretary interrupting what she felt had been her most productive hour all morning, and she couldn’t help the irritation coloring the tone of her response.

“Yes?”

“Your mother is here for you, shall I send her in?”

 _Here it is,_ Regina thought with a deep, internal sigh. Oddly enough, she felt far more ready than she could have expected she would. It was just…time. Time to let go, to give answers, and to finally, _finally_ escape from beneath her mother’s demands.

“Please do, thank you.” She responded, and barely had enough time to stand from her chair, straighten her blazer, and smooth her hair down before the door burst open across from her, the ever-imposing, polished energy of Cora Mills filling the room immediately.

“Darling,” the woman began, her arms open for the sort of “hug” that Regina had resisted since childhood, and yet she felt propelled as if by some force beyond her control to round the desk and cross the room to where her mother waited. She grasped her by the shoulders, Cora’s hands settling naturally on her biceps, rushed kisses pressed to each cheek in greeting.

"I apologize for just dropping in with no notice, but I thought with you being so _busy_ this week and cancelling our holiday together, you would appreciate me coming to you this year.”

“Of course, thank you, Mother,” Regina replied automatically, the lie bubbling up to her lips without any effort. Their interactions were so practiced, so tired, she could practically set her watch by them.

“Come, sit with me,” Cora insisted, and Regina reluctantly followed to join her on the unforgiving, black leather couch situated to one side of the expansive room. They sat primly at either end, and Regina glanced through her peripheral vision to simply observe her mother. Not much ever changed about her; the only difference was the length of her sleek brown hair, the appearance of a few wrinkles, and perhaps the shade of her dramatic lipstick. On this day, she seemed to have come prepared for battle in Cora’s sense of the word: an impeccably pressed black suit, form-fitted, lips painted burgundy around a calculated, dark smile. 

“So,” her mother began, one palm softly stroking the leather of the couch beneath her hand, eyes roving the space of the office with disdain, as they always did. “You don’t look very pregnant, I assume there’s something you’d like to tell me.”

Regina had expected this precise inquiry, and it would only be the natural opening question once Cora had seen her in person, her body quite unchanged from the last time they had seen one another.

“I’m not sure why you would think I was pregnant in the first place.” She could feel herself inherently drifting towards a series of lies.

Cora cocked her head to the side with a sneer. “Don't be flippant, Regina, I detest it. Robin’s father was positively insufferable over the news of Robin’s impending delve into fatherhood-“

Regina interrupted, failing to fall as quickly back into the subservient role with her mother as was expected of her. “Correct. _His_ delve into fatherhood, with no mention of me or us…”

Cora’s eyes flashed, and then a disgusted chuckle escaped her mouth. “And it was idiotic of me to assume that he meant with you, his relationship of ten years? Of course...you led him to stray. We've had this discussion before, dear, of your duties as a wife.”

Regina sat a little taller, squaring her shoulders. “I didn’t ‘lead’ him anywhere. There's no longer any need for those ‘lessons’, Mother. I won't,” she paused, closing her eyes briefly as her heart raced inside her chest, “Robin and I are no longer in a relationship. There will be no marriage.”

“I should hope not!” Cora burst out, indignant, to Regina’s surprise. “He betrayed you and broke our agreement by giving his first born child to another woman. I wouldn't _allow_ you to marry him now. Much too negative for your image. The ‘resilient, capable without a husband who’s done her wrong’ persona is overdone. Your political career will overshadow this little phase.”

Regina felt her insides burn at the implication that Cora was still in control of these decisions, despite her insistence against it. Her throat tickled unpleasantly, and it took more than a few discreetly deep breaths before she could open her mouth to argue.

Cora shook her head then, interrupting her as though Regina weren’t even a part of the conversation. “This is quite the mess, Regina. I would have expected you to handle your personal business in a manner more becoming of someone with your pedigree. I believe you owe me an apology. I worked very hard when you were young to ensure this arrangement benefited all parties involved.”

Regina paused, taken aback at her mother's ramblings. She would ordinarily have let the _I’m sorry_ fall from her lips without hesitation, but she was more shocked by her mother’s audacity to expect an apology. “To ensure it benefitted _you._ ”

Cora stilled, and Regina too couldn’t quite believe she’d actually fired back. In the calm, furious silence, she continued, “Mother, I refuse to apologize for ending a relationship that only existed to serve you.”

“Oh, don't be dramatic, dear.”

“I'm perfectly within my right to end a relationship that wasn't suited to _my_ needs. It may have taken me longer to see the error of your ways, but I'm happier now for it.” She could see Cora’s jaw move as she was obviously grinding her teeth, preparing to unleash her rage. “I've met someone and I know what a real relationship is supposed to be; I won't go back from that now.”

“Oh, a _real_ relationship, I see.” Cora nodded, her lips pursed as though genuinely listening to what Regina had to say, which they both knew she was not. “Do enlighten me, what exactly is a _real_ relationship supposed to be, then?”

“I-- well…” Regina began, her brain tripping over itself to decide exactly which pronouns to use (and which to avoid.) “We….we’re supportive and we care about one another’s lives and successes and--”

“Oh please, Regina, don’t insult my intelligence by calling that blonde street rat _successful._ ” At Regina’s stunned silence, Cora chuckled cruelly. “You didn’t think I would neglect to find out exactly what’s been going on here that you’ve been keeping from me, did you?”

“I _also_ refuse to apologize for falling for a woman.” Regina rushed out proudly, the words tumbling from her one over another as though she had no control over them. “You can be supportive of that, or you can leave.”

It was the bravest thing she’d ever said to her mother, and also quite possibly the dumbest.

Cora regarded her with a blank, stony expression, and a few tense moments fizzled into an eerily quiet calm that made Regina's stomach turn before Cora softened, rolling her eyes. “Well, if you’d ever bothered to _tell_ me you preferred women, I could have found a _much_ more suitable arrangement to accommodate you. Someone more attractive, successful, well-bred...”

If Regina had been expecting a certain reaction, well, it...wasn’t that. But she had made no move to leave, so Regina supposed this must, in fact, be Cora’s idea of support.

“What, like his sister?” Regina scoffed, incredulous. She was missing the point entirely. “She’s not even gay!”

“And you are?” Cora challenged, her eyes glittering as she watched Regina flounder for answers.

“I’m…” She trailed off, her brow furrowing. “I love Robin very much, but never once have I been in love with him. And now I’m in love with Emma. I’ve never thought much about what label that requires of me, to be honest.”

“For the love of god, Regina, you can use the term ‘bisexual,’ the world won’t end if you say it out loud.”

“And you’re just... _fine_ with me being...bisexual?” Regina tested it out carefully, realizing that it _was_ perhaps the first time she’d said the word aloud. Her head spun; nothing about this conversation was making any sense.

“Well, what kind of monster do you take me for?” Cora demanded, exasperated, and she rose regally from beside Regina on the couch to cross the room, leaning one arm against the fireplace mantle. “Am I classist? Perhaps. Homophobic? Absolutely not.”

Regina stared at her mother in utter shock. Truth be told, she knew little to nothing about her. She'd spent her entire life learning more of what to expect from her reactions and expectations instead of her as a person, and it shocked her that not everything about who her mother was as a person would be completely deplorable.

“So the fact that Emma is a woman is-”

“Of no matter to me. But her _family."_ Cora might as well have spat on the floor with the disgusted look that flashed across her face. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking down at Regina so harshly that it added a significant weight to the next words that left her mouth. “She is beneath you.”

Regina's breath caught in her throat as the rage burned inside her and threatened to escape through her nose at the implication. Cora waved her off and continued, a content smile crossed her lips as she settled into her monologue, clearly pleased with the opportunity to finally say just how _exactly_ she felt about Regina’s life to her face.

“It is exactly why I encouraged you to marry Robin. You’ve been always been so content to just coast through life on your wealth, your inheritance, your _name._ The poster child for privilege.” She chuckled to herself ruefully. “And for what? To waste actual _years_ of your life being the Mayor of Small Town, Maine. Do you have no goals? Motivation? Drive? You should hold a seat in the Senate by this point. At the very least, you could be running for Governor. But no. You continue to insist on mediocrity.”

“Not everyone requires the validation that comes with higher office.” Regina countered, at half the volume she would have liked. “I much prefer my focus and time spent doing _this_ work, making a difference here. I see nothing wrong with that.”

“Of course you don't, but I did not waste so many years of _my_ life raising you for _this_ life. You owe me more.”

"Why is it suddenly so important that I climb the political ladder, anyway?” Regina asked abruptly, pushing herself off of the couch and moving across the room to stand behind her desk, squared off more strongly against Cora. “I've been running this town successfully for years, and you've had nothing to say until now. Or is it now that I'm no longer on Robin's arm I'm less valuable?

“I just assumed you would achieve something on your own if left to your own devices. Or that you were allowing Robin's career to launch first. And now that he's found success, I thought you'd follow. I certainly didn't pay for an expensive law degree for you to manage the town budget and approve zoning permits for the rest of your life. There are protocols, dear. You go to Yale, you marry a man with promise, you use him to launch a promising platform. You aren’t only responsible to me, you’re responsible to _all_ women who--”

“Don’t you _dare_ make it seem like you have some feminist agenda after spending my entire adult life _arranging a marriage_!” Regina cried, her lip curling unpleasantly. “It’s positively medieval.”

“Calling that relationship an arranged marriage is beyond dramatic. You liked him, didn’t you? Your parents happened to have business opportunity together. No one held your hands together and chanted some evil spell and bound you for eternity.”

“Stop mocking me, Mother,” Regina sniffed haughtily. “It was made explicitly clear to me what was expected of me and what my role was. Robin felt it too. We both lived unhappily for years.”

Cora sighed, her head rolling from side to side on her neck as though to release tension, before allowing it to fall completely forward and rock back and forth in disappointment. “Regina, dear, you were always your own jailer. You never needed me to cage you; so willing and ready to do it yourself.”

It wasn’t that Regina _hated_ her mother, per se, but it was moments like these that reminded her how glad she had become for her continued absence from her life.

“The thing they don’t tell you about having children,” Cora explained, stepping slowly towards the couch to regain her seat there once more, “is how utterly ungrateful and disappointing they can be. Really, dear, you should be _thanking_ Robin for sparing you the trouble of it all.”

 _The trouble of it all_. Several thoughts raced to the forefront of Regina’s mind, each fighting to take priority over the other. The sight of her mother’s back in a tailored business suit, a suitcase rolling behind her, leaving through the front door of the house Regina lived in now; a last look always spared to where she sat on the stairs, her tiny arms wrapped around her tiny legs, watching her go. There was always one last blown kiss, one secret smile, one little wave, and then she’d be gone. Regina remembered missing her with an ache so acute she still didn’t have a word for it. The constant, terrifying weight of her mother’s expectations for every event, in every season of her life. The way she craved that still, secret smile each time she somehow pleased her.

But then there was that one, shining moment, fighting its way to the forefront, one memory as Cora-free as it could possibly be. One tiny, perfect, awful moment of tears and sweat and relief and loss wrapped up in a bundle held somewhere to her left, so fleeting she could hardly remember the cries now, though they’d haunted her for years. How she’d looked around for her mother desperately as they rushed the baby away, crushed by the realization that she’d never come, because she’d never know.

She thought of her home now, of sitting on those same steps, waiting for boundless energy and hesitant happiness and one perfect set of bright brown eyes rushing through the door to greet her at the end of a school day.

 _The trouble of it all_. Regina’s heart thudded wildly against her chest, threatening to break free with each amused chuckle Cora gave to the idea. She struggled to drag the corners of her mouth upwards in a weak smile as she clung tightly to the last shreds of bravado she had left.

“Well, actually…”

“It’s really sort of considerate of him, isn’t it?” Cora mused, her head propped in her hand rested against the back of the couch as she looked over at Regina with renewed excitement. “Now there’s really no reason for you _not_ to pursue the next phase of your career.”

And just like that, she swallowed up her confession and held it inside, though the ache of it burned all the way down. She wouldn’t be able to put it off for much longer, but she desperately hoped she’d make it through this impromptu meeting with enough time to apprise her family of their situation.

“Cider?” She cleared her throat, vacating her stance behind her desk, and rushed towards the small bar against the opposite wall. It may have been early afternoon, but if she knew her mother, she would never turn down a drink.

“Of course,” Cora confirmed, her eyes roving over the contents of the whole office as Regina polished two small glasses, setting them neatly beside a half-full decanter.  She found her way to the same space Regina had just occupied, fingers lightly brushing over everything on the desk’s surface, from the stapler, across the wireless keyboard, and over the calendar Regina had been updating previous to Cora’s arrival.

“Well, it does at least seem you’ve been keeping yourself occupied,” she observed, pointing out several blocks of time that she’d marked on certain days.

Regina nodded, her body still turned away, as she carefully poured out cider for each of them. “Well you know, around the holidays, I’m so busy with meetings and teleconferences and--”

She turned around, ready to cross the space between them and extend a hand towards Cora to offer her drink, but she stood quite still at the look on her mother’s face, the way her brow had knitted together as her fingers traced her written words.

“Who is Leila?”

Regina’s heart stopped, just briefly, and it took all the physical awareness she possessed not to drop each glass until they shattered. The fucking calendar. How had she overlooked it? She paused, standing even taller, and rolled her shoulders back in preparation for exactly what she’d been trying to avoid.

“What?”

“Leila- lunch date...Leila-Christmas shopping….Leila-BTS...”

Regina swallowed hard, but still made her way closer to the desk, taking a calm, slow seat in her guest chair and indicating her own, in front of which Cora still stubbornly stood. "Alright. You may want to take a seat."

"Listen, Regina,” Cora ignored her, splaying her palms out over the wooden surface and leaning forward imperiously, regarding Regina with judgmental reprove. “I am by _no_ means homophobic, and I meant that, but that doesn’t mean I approve of infidelity either. I stayed married to your useless father for _years_. Isn’t it bad enough you’ve already started dating someone so soon after ending things with Robin? But to be seeing another woman on top of the Swan catastrophe…”

She shook her head sadly, and Regina felt as though she might be ill.

“No, _no..._ god, no,” Regina groaned, her eyes squeezing shut, and while she deposited Cora’s glass into her now outstretched, waiting hand, she drained the contents of hers in one large gulp. She shuddered, but pressed on, “Leila’s not my _mistress,_ Mother. She’s my...you see, Leila, she’s...a few months ago, I…”

While she found it easy to begin many sentences by way of explanation, completing a single one of them was proving to be more difficult. Cora still looked at her expectantly, and she knew that this was the time; it couldn’t be avoided any longer.

“Leila is my daughter. She’s sixteen years old, and I’ve had custody of her for almost six months,” she explained, an exhaled rush of cautious words, and Cora became very still as she processed them. Upon the stilted, strained silence during which her mother simply stared, mouth closed in a firm, thin line, Regina began to flounder. “I gave her up for adoption when I was sixteen, a _closed_ adoption, and she ended  up in the foster care system and-- _why_ are you rolling your eyes?”

For Cora had begun to shake her head slowly during Regina’s explanation, her eyes roving up to the ceiling as she chose her words carefully.

"I always knew something was going on with you after my time working abroad,” she explained, and Regina thought back along with her to a summer when she’d been not only postpartum and unbearably depressed, but also lonely, all while preparing for her senior year of high school.

“It will always baffle me, your aptitude for failure.” Cora continued, in a disappointed voice that made Regina’s blood run cold in a way she felt more intimately than any other. “The very least you could have done was give her away and make it _stick_ , like I did. But that's neither here nor there. We do have options, dear."

"Make it stick like _you did?"_ Regina repeated, not quite sure what to make of the revelation.

"Don't sound so naive, darling, it's unbecoming.” Cora waved her hand dismissively, and she swiveled from side to side in the large, imposing desk chair she now fully occupied as though she’d somehow dethroned its usual tenant. “When _I_ make a mistake, I ensure it's handled properly. I don't allow it to come in and disrupt my life more than a decade later, ruining potentials and careers and engagements."

“Leila is _not_ ruining--”

"This is precisely the reason they created boarding school in the first place,” Cora interrupted, bringing her fingers together in front of her face and steepling them as her brow furrowed in deep thought. “We'll pay for discretion, obviously, but there's no reason we can't still salvage your political persona despite this unfortunate series of events. Now there's nothing we can do about the town full of people who've been watching you botch six months of motherhood, but..."

"I'm not going to send her away, Mother. I already lost her once; I’m not going to lose her again. We have a life here that you couldn't possibly understand. I actually want to _be with_ my child."

"Don't be ridiculous, Regina, you can't possibly hope to run for a higher office while raising your illegitimate teenage daughter with that blonde street rat by your side."

Regina huffed, scornful, and leaned back in her seat. She was growing more weary of this with each moment that passed. "Emma is _not_ a street rat, I don’t know why you keep calling her that. She's a very successful business owner and--"

"The girl sells martinis for a living at a place with a rodent in its name. She is quite literally below your pay grade."

“She runs a successful business,” Regina repeated, as though Cora had never interrupted her, “and she’s a good mother. She’s everything I need and want in my life right now. We’re happy and we’re co-parenting and it works.”

“Be that as it may, we’re going to have to do something about the child,” Cora reiterated, and she swirled the computer’s mouse a few times to bring the screen to life. “Let’s just see what our options are. She can't have had much of an education. It’s never too late to get ahead with things like this.”

“I’ve already told you I’m not sending her away,” Regina argued. She finally rose from the guest chair and began to pace, if only to give her body some way to exert the energy it was building. “I lost her because I was too terrified of you and what you’d do, how you’d take her away from me like you’re trying to do right now. I won’t allow it.”

She paused, slamming her hands down on the desk to make Cora tear her attention from the screen and look at her. It worked.

“She’s _perfect_ , Mother. And I want every messy, disruptive, challenging second with her. I thought I’d lost her forever and regretted my decision the moment they took her from me.” She slumped just slightly, the weight of that burden never _really_ leaving her despite even Leila’s forgiveness. She sighed, deep and slow. “And then she found me, and I’m still learning to cherish every moment with her. You squandered those years with me; I won’t do the same with her.”

She breathed heavily, matching Cora’s fierce gaze with a determined one of her own. “I may not have been blessed with someone who loved me the way I needed, but _my_ daughter will know exactly what she’s worth and how much she’s loved and wanted.”

And for as many times as she’d heard the words throughout her life, this was the first time she’d ever heard them accompanied by the cracking of her mother’s voice as she absorbed the magnitude of what Regina had just suggested. “I’ve only ever wanted what was best for you.”

“I believe you did,” Regina agreed quietly, and she reached out to wrap Cora’s free hand tightly within hers; she did her best to ignore the way the other woman tried to pull away just slightly and held a little more firmly until she softened. Which didn’t quite match up to the aggressive, demanding hardass she knew her mother to be, and she didn’t like to be thrown off kilter. “Your own version of what you thought was best. This life, what it's becoming? It's what's best for me. And for Leila. And I'm going to keep doing exactly this. For both of us.”

Cora sighed heavily, and she didn’t quite meet Regina’s searching gaze as she processed the turn of events. She opened her mouth to answer, but not quickly enough, as Regina launched into the next segment of her speech.

“She’s your _granddaughter,_ can't you just feel _something_ about that?” She insisted, pleading with her mother to care. “I may have been a disappointment to you, but _she_ deserves a chance.”

“I don’t... _not_ care about that,” Cora argued quietly. She hated to be put in her place, but especially by her own daughter.

Regina held back a smirk at the way she knew Cora was breaking down. “Maybe the animosity and manipulation and demands should stop with us. Maybe it's time just to _try_ loving her for exactly who she is without worrying about what her existence does to an image you've curated, for a fantasy you've always imagined that's just that--a fantasy. But this is real life and it's time you recognized it.”

They were both angry and silent and taken aback by the conversation as a whole, and they both knew it.

“I don’t know what you expect from me,” Cora finally admitted coldly, swiveling Regina’s chair to the side to distance them further, though not extracting herself from the conversation completely. “Me? A _Grandma_?”

“It’s worse when you say it that way, somehow,” Regina could only smile sadly, and Cora cut her eyes to the side to reprimand her.

“Fine,” Cora allowed, raising her hands in front of her body in surrender as she turned to face Regina fully once more. “But I need to meet these people. We’ll have dinner. And you can bring your _street_...”

“Mother,” Regina warned, effectively halting her speech.

“You can bring your...Emma along too,” Cora finished, her tone sour over the blonde’s name once more. “I’ll be at my hotel until then. Text me the details, darling.”

And then as simply as she’d just completed a business transaction or signed a contract, she was gone, leaving a Cora-shaped hole in Regina’s presence as she did her best to recover from the whole interaction.

 

\--------

 

Leila had not, as of yet, seen both of her mothers absolutely losing their shit, but if she had to put a name to what was happening, that would have been it.

She and Henry had spent the day snowed inside, which was fine as far as Henry was concerned, as there were still so many Disney cartoons he wanted Leila to watch anew with him. She had watched more movies over the course of this break from school than she’d seen over the rest of her life, she thought, but it kept him occupied and happy, and she had to admit the songs were pretty catchy. She found herself humming them quietly, in the shower, while brushing her teeth, while getting dressed in the morning. They had just transitioned from _The Jungle Book_ to _Aladdin_ , a large bowl of popcorn nestled into the couch cushion between them, when the slamming of the front door startled them both. Henry paused, a fistful of popcorn halfway to his mouth, brows knitted together in confusion. It was barely past noon, and they hadn’t expected an adult to return to the house for at least a few more hours.

“Leila!” The imperious, demanding voice of Regina rang out across the first floor, seeking her out, and the girl couldn’t help the tiniest moment of panic that she was somehow in trouble.

“Family room!” Leila called back, and within moments, her mother appeared in the doorway to the room behind them, looking flushed and distressed. She spared a small smile for Henry, rushing forward to lean across the back of the couch and kiss the top of his head;  he reached up to pat her cheek softly in greeting as she did so, but for the most part returned his attention to the movie without worry. He was never the one causing a stir for either Emma or Regina; or, at the very least, certainly less often than Leila was.

“What’s up?” Leila asked, cautious, as she watched Regina survey the room. She could see the way she was cataloguing every little thing out of place, the pile of wrapped gifts in disarray rather than stacked neatly beneath the tree.

“Your grandmother is coming to dinner. Tonight,” Regina explained shortly, and she reached out to tuck down the tag sticking out of a blanket folded over the back of the couch.

Leila blanched, her eyes growing wide with alarm. “She can’t! I haven’t finished my _Wuthering Heights_ paper yet.”

Regina tilted her head in confusion for the briefest moment before she registered what Leila could possibly be thinking, and then rolled her eyes at the conclusion. “Not _that_ grandmother.”

“Oh,” Leila sighed, relieved, and then sat up with renewed horror. “ _Oh_.”

“Right,” Regina breathed out, smoothing out the blanket further.

“What can we do?” Leila asked tentatively, as Regina had begun straightening the items on each side table.

“Clean your rooms. Take showers. Brush your hair,” Regina suggested, and Leila could tell the calm in her voice was false. “Wear something nice. I’m going to call Emma now.”

And so they did; Henry’s room was tidy, for the most part, and took very little time to straighten up. Leila’s on the other hand, was what Emma liked to call _clean_ \- _adjacent_ and required much more time to make presentable. By the time they bad both cleaned, showered, and selected their dinner outfits (Leila had chosen Henry’s little button down shirt and slacks, and felt pretty proud of herself for knowing how to do so,) Emma had arrived. She was rushing around downstairs with Regina, completing even the most mundane and seemingly useless of tasks that Regina threw at her.

That, at least, Leila had to admit, was what a relationship should be.

She had been watching through the door, spying Regina dusting each of the shelves in the kitchen for a second time, when Emma burst through, a hand vacuum in one hand and a feather duster in the other, determined look on her face.

“Hey, Emma?” Leila began tentatively.

“What’s up, kid?” She replied, distracted, and started to vacuum the soft, white chaise in the formal living room, a room that Leila only ever passed through en route to the kitchen.

She knew she was about to fight a losing battle, but wanted to try anyway. “I have kind of a sensitive question to ask you.”

“Okay...shoot.” Emma stopped, her attention focused on Leila, the still-whirring hand vacuum held limply by her side.

“So, you know my friend...Ace.”

“Um,” Emma hummed, her lips pursed in thought. “Guy with the motorcycle, tattoo of an angry whale on his neck?”

“That’s the one,” Leila confirmed. She swallowed hard.

“What about him?” Emma replied, and Leila could tell her patience was growing thin. The sounds of various objects being banged and shuffled around the kitchen had begun to permeate the door, and it was clear that Emma wasn’t fond of the idea of being caught stagnant should Regina find them.

“So he kind of just asked me to go out with him tonight...and obviously I don’t want to upset Regina, but...I want to go.”

“Are you serious?” Emma snorted, and finally shut off the device in her hand to cross her arms over her chest. “ Have you seen your mother? She just re-polished the _spare salt shaker._ Her brain is about to ooze out of her ears from stress over this dinner, and you want to _skip_ it?”

Leila paused, thought about it, and nodded. “Yes.”

“No way,” Emma shook her head firmly, and for what felt like the first time, Leila thought perhaps Emma was angry with her. “If the rest of us have to deal with Cora’s wrath, so do you.”

“But _Emma_ -”

“But _Emma_ nothing.” Her eyes flashed, and Leila _knew_ she was angry with her. She didn’t like it all that much. “Why don’t you go in there and ask Regina if you can skip dinner? And let me know how that goes.”

“I can’t do that!” Leila cried, horrified. “She’d kill me.”

“And what do you think she’d do to me?” Emma hissed, her voice much lower, as she glanced over her shoulder.

“She loves you,” Leila argued, as though her logic were foolproof.

“She _birthed_ you,” Emma replied, and with one last annoyed glance at Leila, began her assault on the couch cushions once more. “The answer is no. Regina’s put too much work and mental energy into dealing with this situation. You won’t leave her to do it alone.”

“Fine,” Leila heaved a disappointed sigh, and she leaned against the wall as she watched Emma work. “But I’m not going to be nice to her. Cora, I mean.”

“Are you nice to anyone?” Emma inquired curiously, the hint of a teasing smile turning up the corner of her mouth.

“I’m...nice to you guys, I think.”

“Well, I guess it’s good to set the bar low.”

Before she could retort with the first snarky reply that sprang forth, Regina burst through the swinging kitchen door, looking disheveled and harassed by her own anxiety.

“What are you two doing?” She demanded, glancing wildly between them.

“Almost done here,” Emma assured her, cool and collected, and Regina breathed an audible sigh of relief. “Is there anything left that we can help you with?”

“No, I don’t think so...is that what you’re wearing?” She blurted out, gesturing pointedly at Leila’s somewhat low-cut shirt and extremely fitted jeans.

“Of course not,” Emma, who hadn’t even registered the girl’s attire (that she’d clearly chosen with a potential date in mind), supplied for her. “She was just going upstairs to change.”

“Riiight,” Leila drawled, beginning to slowly back away. “Into something _nice.”_

She retreated, stomping her way up the stairs menacingly, one last dark look cast over her shoulder in Emma’s direction.

Emma exhaled slowly through tense lips and closed her eyes for the briefest moment to gather as much patience as she had left. Regina moved in closer, her arms crossed and her face amused despite her obvious stress.

“What was that about?” She inquired softly, and stopped just close enough to Emma to feel her warmth without actually touching her.

“Just Leila being Leila,” Emma replied, as vaguely as she felt she should.

Regina, somehow, seemed to understand this perfectly. She glanced at the nearby grandfather clock, her heartbeat quickening at the sight. “She’ll be here soon, Emma.”

“And we’ll be ready for her,” Emma soothed. She had never seen Regina less in control than she was in that moment, and it left her feeling unsettled. They still had two hours before they could reasonably expect Cora, and Emma didn’t know how she was going to accomplish it, but she needed to calm Regina exponentially in that time.

 

\--------

 

Seven o’clock saw every member of their stressed family congregating awkwardly in the foyer, which Emma thought might not have been the best plan of attack, so to speak, but there they were.

Emma had convinced Regina to simply sit still for a while by way of drawing a quick, hot bubble bath and then get dressed and ready alone, giving her enough space that she might be able to regain some composure. It seemed to have worked, if only marginally, and by the time Emma had come downstairs too, Regina was there, gorgeous as ever.

Leila had, in fact, changed into a much more meeting-your-grandmother-for-the-first-time appropriate outfit, and she’d braided her hair into some sort of elegant twist none of them had ever seen on her. Emma thought she quite looked like a princess this way, and from the fond looks Regina kept sneaking when she thought Leila wasn’t looking, she knew she wasn’t alone in that.

“What are we doing anyway?” Henry inquired suddenly, voicing Emma’s internal concern, and Regina took several steps forward to unbutton and straighten the collar of his shirt before buttoning it again.

“We’re waiting,” Leila shrugged, pacing casually in a wide circle around the other three, the tip of her thumb clenched between her teeth. ”Duh.”

“All of us right here?” He pressed, his face scrunching in displeasure at the way Regina was still fussing over him. He squirmed away, though he did look a little apologetic about it, and plopped heavily down to sit at the bottom of the stairs. “It’s weird. We look weird.”

“Too late to go anywhere now,” Emma reasoned, composed as ever, and she spared a glance from the corner of her eye to where Regina hovered on the edge of the formal living room, peeking out of the window every thirty seconds. Regina, who looked devastatingly wonderful in the regal, bright blue dress she’d chosen. Regina, who alternated between twitching her fingers nervously and clenching her thumb between her teeth the same way Leila did. Regina, who wanted nothing more than to please her mother, except maybe to survive it when she inevitably wouldn’t.

Emma thought of her own mother, who may have annoyed her beyond measure more often than not, but was unwaveringly proud of her and made sure she knew it; suddenly, her heart ached harder at the uncertainty behind Regina’s eyes.

“She’s here,” Regina announced. And sure enough, within moments, there was a telltale, prim sequence of knocks at the door that had Leila and Henry standing still beside the enormous, ornate Christmas tree, Emma slightly behind them, a hand on each of their shoulders. Regina rushed to answer the door, her steps slowing and calming in just enough time to give herself one last check in the mirror to its right, before turning the knob to reveal Cora Mills, waiting patiently, calculated smile firmly in place.

Leila froze in place, inhaling sharply as her stomach dropped. While the woman looked similar to her mother, there was something _harsh_ about her grandmother that both terrified her and made a lot of sense. She understood exactly why Regina seemed so afraid.

Emma pushed her a little from behind, ushering her closer to both of the women standing at the door as they offered fake pleasantries. She sighed, straightened her dress and her shoulders, and walked closer. She assumed Cora was the kind of woman who appreciated forwardness, so she stood quietly next to her mother, waiting for them to finish speaking.

When a natural break in conversation occurred as Regina took Cora’s coat, she reached out her hand for a firm handshake. “Mrs. Mills, I'm Leila. It's nice to finally meet you.”

She could feel Regina tense next to her, surprised by the bold move. But she stood strong, shook the woman's hand firmly, smiled like she actually _was_ glad to meet her, and hoped her taking the reins would be helpful to Regina.

“Leila, what a beautiful name,” Cora took her hand within a similarly firm grasp, “it's a pleasure to meet you as well. I only wish we'd met sooner. You've been in Storybrooke for a good while now, haven’t you?” Cora sent Regina a side-eyed glare that made even Leila's stomach hurt with second-hand guilt, and Regina clearly internally shriveled so much it was almost physically detectable.

“I suppose. I've been trying to figure out this new life here, with such an advanced school, and having a mom… we've all been adjusting. We're meeting now, though. Just in time for Christmas, which I think is nice, don't you?”

Cora stood still, examining every bit of the girl standing strong before her. She was skeptical and judgemental, clearly. But Leila was a failed foster kid, as she called herself, and she was used to being observed like a mutt in an animal shelter. This woman- her _grandmother_ \- definitely didn't scare her. And more than anything, she didn’t like the way she treated her mother.

“Yes, mother,” Regina added, gaining courage from Leila's firm grip on the situation. “It is quite poetic. We’re all happy you’re here.” Regina nodded and ushered her closer to where Henry and Emma stood, bringing them all together. “This is my- this is Emma Swan, and her son Henry.”

“Of course I remember Miss Swan,” Cora replied, sickly sweet and false, and Emma drew up all of her remaining civility to plaster on a bright, welcoming smile and offer a handshake in greeting. In all of the years she’d known Regina, from their youth until now, both closely and from afar, the only parent with whom she’d ever interacted had been Regina’s father. Now, she understood why. “And Henry? Also a lovely name. So...significant.”

Emma stiffened, Cora’s would-be casual tone washing over her as she bent down the slightest bit to gently shake Henry’s hand, a more genuine smile, at least, forming across her mouth when she regarded him.

“Why?” He replied, confused. It was just his name; he’d never thought much about it.

“Henry was my father’s name,” Regina explained to him quietly, and her eyes met Emma’s over his head for one brief, intense moment. Somehow, they had never discussed this fact, though it _was_ significant.

“Oh, that’s cool!” Henry cried, excited. “I never knew that. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Regina smiled and tousled his hair away from his forehead softly, affectionately. “Because _you’re_ Henry to me now.”

“How touching,” Cora observed blithely, “I don’t suppose we intend to stand around in the foyer all evening? Marvelously decorated as it is.”

“Of course not. May I offer you a drink?” Regina suggested, ushering Cora hurriedly through to the formal living room, feeling strangely at odds hosting the woman in a house that had once been her own.

“It seems rather like Miss Swan should be the one in charge of this task, don’t you think, dear?” Cora goaded them both, but at Regina’s indignant look and impending sense of rebuttal, Emma shook her head behind Cora’s back, halting Regina in her tracks and making her way to the small bar against one wall instead.

“Gin or vodka?” She inquired, only a hint of annoyance in her voice while she began chilling a long-stemmed glass, waiting for confirmation before she began mixing.

“Gin,” came the short reply, and with a begrudging, respectful agreement with Cora’s choice, she set about mixing the best martini of her life, ingredients and ice coming together smoothly. Within moments, she was pouring into the chilled glass and delivering the drink into Cora’s outstretched hand.

“Shaken...not stirred?” She observed the tiny, almost imperceptible shards of ice floating across the surface, and Emma shrugged as she set about making Regina’s drink next. She had settled into a high-backed chair directly perpendicular to the two opposing couches, Cora perched on one, Leila and Henry beside one another across from her.   

“I thought you might prefer it a little...icy,” Emma explained, and while she ordinarily _would_ stir a martini, it had been worth breaking routine for the pun. And from the way Cora took her first sip and couldn’t hide her enjoyment of it, she knew she’d been right. 

“Dirty. One olive...how did you know?” Cora demanded suspiciously, and Emma relished the way she took a much larger second sip. She placed a similar drink into Regina’s hand, sharing with her a secret smile, before she hurried through making a third drink for herself. While what she _wanted_ to say was something along the lines of _the help always knows_ , she thought of Regina’s reaction to that and decided to take the high road.

“I have a way with these things,” She answered vaguely instead, choosing to perch as near to Regina’s chair as she could from the end of the couch Cora had already chosen. If there was a more awkward situation or seating arrangement, well, she couldn’t think of it.

“What an enviable skill,” Cora replied, and Regina nearly choked on her drink at the droll, bored tone. Finally, she diverted her attention back to Leila, who had become very occupied by picking at the hem of her dress. “Now Leila, my dear, that _is_ such a lovely name. Wherever did you get it?”

Leila stumbled over her answer, knowing from the way her heart clenched at the change in topic, it must have happened for Regina tenfold.

“Well I...I was born at night,” she explained, as though that would do anything by way of answering, which only served to furrow Cora’s brow more deeply. “That’s what it means. Dark night. The nurses gave it to me. I was in the hospital...for a while.”

“You were?” Regina breathed out, her spare hand coming up to rest against her stomach almost as though by instinct. “I didn’t know that.”

“I had...this heart thing? A hole,” Leila continued, in a voice so small and unlike herself it startled even her. “So that’s why I was never adopted. No one wants a broken newborn, right? And then when you get older, everyone wants babies.”

She paused, stretching an awkward silence into an uncomfortable chasm that she suddenly wished would swallow her whole. She looked to her mother’s wide, heartbroken eyes and wished immediately that she could take the words back. “Well, not everyone...obviously.”

“Obviously,” Regina repeated even more quietly, clearing her throat and looking up and away; she was chewing the inside corner of her lip, her arms crossed at the wrists over her lap, and Emma recognized at least three signals that she was about to make a mad dash for any other place to be.  

Sure enough, she cleared her throat more loudly, depositing her still half-full glass onto a side table before standing abruptly, brushing invisible wrinkles from the front of her dress and pasting on a false, too-wide smile, though it did nothing to hide her watery eyes or the little cracks of distress in her voice. “Well I’d better check on dinner, shouldn’t I? Please excuse me.”

And then she was gone, leaving an array of emotions unbridled in her wake; Cora, who was observing Leila more curiously with each passing moment, Henry looking very much like he too wished he could be anywhere else, and Leila herself, curling inward and looking very small where she was usually larger than life. Emma, though, knew that her place was wherever Regina had chosen to be, and followed her briskly into the kitchen.

She wasn’t quite sure what she should expect upon swinging open the kitchen door, but it certainly wasn’t the sight of Regina, her face buried in her hands against the island in the middle of the room, her body wracked with silent, guilty sobs.

“Regina?” She announced herself quietly, so as not to startle her, but the other woman didn’t even acknowledge her presence until Emma had crossed enough distance that Regina could turn her body, falling helplessly into Emma’s embrace, into her outstretched, ready arms without ever saying a word. She simply cried there, her palms pressed firmly against Emma’s chest, her face buried in the thick, grey sweater she wore. There were more tears she needed to release than even she had realized, and while she knew there was no way of stopping them now, she also knew there was only so much time before someone else would come after them.

She needed to pull it together. Soon.

But just then, in that moment with Emma holding her safely and swaying her so gently, it was too easy to let herself cry.

“I broke her,” she murmured finally into her chest, muffled and unclear, and Emma’s hand stilled in its attempt to soothe her by running repeatedly, methodically through her hair, down her back, and up again. She pulled back just enough to be heard more clearly, though she dared not lift her eyes any further for fear of bursting into tears once more. “I broke her before she was even born, and then I threw her away, and I broke her every day after.”

Emma sighed deeply, and she moved both hands to wrap more securely around Regina’s waist. “Regina, you--”

“I didn’t even love her enough to _name_ her,” Regina interrupted her, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. “Some nurse she never saw again chose that.”

A few moments passed, with neither of them knowing quite what to say, before Regina dove into her self-hatred a little more deeply. “What’s _wrong_ with me? What kind of monster am I that I’m worse than _my_ _mother_? At least she gave me a name.”

“Along with a lifetime of crippling anxiety, a ton of verbal abuse, and questionable social skills,” Emma reminded her pointedly. “You were sixteen years old. You were a child. At that age, her _current_ age, mind you--you did what was best for her.  _Truly_. What happened after you brought her into the world is _not_ your fault.”

“I didn’t even name her,” Regina repeatedly, more quietly than anything she’d said. She couldn't seem to stop saying it. “I didn’t love her enough to name her.”

“You loved her more.” Emma argued, equally quietly, and when Regina rested her cheek against Emma’s chest, listening to her heartbeat slowly, steadily beneath her ear, Emma leaned her chin down to rest on the crown of Regina’s head. “You loved her more than naming her or holding her or doing anything that would make you consider keeping her. You loved her enough to let her go.”

There was nothing Regina could really say to that, so she simply nodded her understanding and wound her arms tightly around Emma’s neck, grounding herself as best as she could while allowing herself to float within the still, wonderful, swaying embrace.

“Maybe I can love her enough now,” Regina murmured, in a voice so small, Emma almost didn’t hear her. “Maybe I can love her enough now for all the days I wasn’t there to do it before.”

“We all will,” Emma agreed, and she felt Regina grip her more tightly, more desperately. “We all do.”

And then, without preamble, the girl in question burst through the door, startling them both.

“I almost didn’t want to come in here because...well, you know,” she gestured wildly toward where they were still entwined without looking directly at them, indicating both her discomfort with the conversation they’d had previously and any physical contact between her mothers in general. “But I thought you’d want to know that Henry’s in there talking to your mother about his stupid fairy tale book, so like...can we eat now?”

And with a typical, dramatic flourish, she exited through the same door as quickly as she’d come, earning a laugh from each of them, along with a rueful shake of Regina’s head.

“It’s a good thing _I_ didn’t get to name her,” Emma joked, changing the subject as Regina extracted herself from the hug, bustling quickly about with her second wind to assemble the various parts of the lavish dinner she’d concocted, removing several dishes from the oven where they were kept warm.

“Why? You did such a beautiful job with Henry,” Regina interrupted with a significant, sly look towards her. “Wherever did _you_ come up with it?”

“It’s a good name,” Emma defended, though she colored with the hint of a blush all the same. “Classic. Strong. Regal…”

“ _Mine_ ,”  Regina reminded her, only as accusatory as it was loving. “Or did you forget that you’d stolen it from me?”

“Well it’s not like you ever used it,” Emma defended herself, though she knew she was definitively in the wrong.

“And now I’ll never have to,” Regina answered calmly, a teasing smile turning up the corners of her mouth as she loaded her arms up with as many dishes as she could carry at one time into the dining room. “As I do have a son named Henry after all, don’t I?”

Amid Emma’s stunned, flabbergasted silence over this fact she clearly hadn’t considered, Leila entered the room once more, giving nothing more than a curious glance and then a roll of her eyes to Emma’s dreamy, tear-filled eyes as she gathered the rest of the warm dishes into her arms and followed in her mother’s wake.

 

\--------

 

All things considered, Regina supposed, the actual dinner itself could have been going much worse. If Cora wanted to throw her off balance by being curious, engaged, and nearly even delightful to Emma, Henry, and Leila, then she had succeeded. She still spared Regina the occasional withering stare, but for the most part, her focus was on her newly introduced granddaughter (and oddly enough, Henry as well.)

Leila had never been in a position quite like this one; she was familiar with trying to please potential parents, and she’d finally settled into a routine with her own, but she’d never before had to try to impress a grandparent--much less one with whom she shared a biological bond. She knew which parts of her came from Regina; they were both passionate, stubborn, and strong. But it was the parts of her that came by nurture (or lack thereof) rather than nature that she hoped desperately to hide from Cora’s inquisitive probing.

For the moment, Henry had commanded her attention, regaling her enthusiastically with stories from his fairy tale book, much to her unexpected delight. He was engaged and excited, and his innocent faith was, as always, refreshing to all of the women in his family.

“But you _do_ believe in fairy tales, don’t you?” He insisted at the end of a particularly long-winded tale, and shoved a forkful of whipped potatoes into his mouth as he waited for Cora’s answer.

“Of course I do,” Cora confirmed, to which Regina whipped her head to the side to look at her mother in disbelief. Cora continued, unaffected. “But I _do_ believe we make our own destiny in this life. And that there’s no magic in the world more effective than power, and those who wield it.”

At this, Regina templed her fingers against her forehead, closing her eyes and shaking her head. Emma gently squeezed her knee beneath the table, and Leila glared as subtly as she could in Henry’s direction, urging him without speech to just shut the hell up.

“So you do think magic is real then,” Henry deduced, choosing as he often did to selectively hear the things he wanted to, and Emma had to suppress a laugh at the sour look on Cora’s face when she reached out to aggressively serve her plate with more roasted brussels sprouts.

“Well, it's safe to assume that _you_ do, young man? You have quite the imagination.”

“Oh yes, I haven’t even told you my favorite fairytale of all! Have you heard of the White Knight and the Lost Princess? It’s about-“

“Henry!” Leila loudly interjected, before he could delve into his little world where their moms were actually princesses and how True Love conquered all and everything else he tended to spout non-stop to anyone who would listen. But when all eyes in the room turned to her, especially Henry’s indignant glare, she remembered her desire to direct attention _away_ from herself and lost her nerve to reprimand him.

At Leila’s pleading look, Regina cut in to save the girl. “Emma, you should tell my mother about the remodel of your bar; it’s about a half a million dollar upgrade, isn’t it?”

“Something like that,” Emma confirmed, albeit a bit slowly, as she gauged Cora’s reaction to the turn in conversation. She had a sinking feeling Regina had just unknowingly led them down a path that none of them would be keen to take, but there would be no turning back, and she had no way of steering them in a different direction now.

“I see,” Cora replied, not quite looking at either of them as she sawed delicately at a veal shank with one of Regina’s best knives; it had awed Emma that on just seven hours’ notice, Regina had pulled together a feast of several vegetable dishes, some kind of delicate, luscious risotto, and her mother’s favorite osso bucco, along with two or three different kinds of pie for dessert. The woman may have been many things, but prone to cracking under pressure was not one of them. Instead, she seemed to thrive.

Regina nodded, and despite Emma’s hand clenched tightly on her thigh under the table, pressed on. “It looks lovely, and Emma’s hoping to have a grand reopening on New Year’s Eve.”

“I find it interesting,” Cora interrupted Regina’s desperate enthusiasm, gently placing her fork and knife down on the table on either side of her plate, her hands folding neatly in her lap, “that a bar owner would just casually have half a million dollars to sink into a remodel.”

Her eyes cut sharply, significantly towards where Regina had somehow shrunk smaller, realizing her mistake. She sent an apologetic, soft look to Emma, who seemed to have taken on Regina’s fierceness in the moment she’d lost it.

“Well, I don’t have half a million lying around at any given time, you’re right,” Emma validated her theory, but soldiered on unfettered, “but there _was_ an incident a couple of months ago with a fire in the bar, and the insurance really came through, so I’m going to make it the best it can be moving forward with opening up again.”

“Well, it must be so helpful to not have rent to pay in that time,” Cora snarked, a ruthless chuckle falling from her lips as they settled around the rim of her wine glass. “Really an advantage, I presume.”

“I wouldn’t be paying rent anyway,” Emma seethed, her tolerance at an all-time low for what Cora was implying, “as I own the building and have lived in the loft above it for years.”

“How impressive,” Cora replied, bored with her once more, and turned her attention instead to Leila again, who was discreetly occupied by her phone in her lap. “And you, Leila, dear.”

At the mention of her name, she looked up and around, shoving her phone out of sight beneath her thigh and returning with gusto to her meal, a heaping plate full of only the saffron risotto. “Yes?”

“We must discuss college,” Cora pressed on, ignoring the way Leila and both of her mothers tensed, while Henry simply looked on, unobserved himself but diligently observing the distress signals on his sister’s face.

“I’m only in the tenth grade,” Leila supplied, quick to argue her point. Not that it much mattered which grade she was in; Leila had never even entertained the idea of college, much less any of her life following high school. She had always intended to make it through the next two years and then do whatever she could to survive. But life for her now, she knew, would be different. She had support, and a home to return to, should it not be ripped away from her when she least expected it (and truthfully, she _did_ expect it, somewhere in the back of her mind, at any given moment.)

But while she knew Regina probably had similar expectations to Cora, she had never expressed them aloud to Leila; rather, she encouraged her and helped her through her more difficult and challenging coursework and made her feel capable and intelligent, all the time. And perhaps this was why she felt so dismayed by the next words that left her mother’s mouth.

“Of course she’ll go to college, Mother,” Regina answered for her before Leila could continue speaking, and she fixed Regina with the most betrayed look she could muster without being obvious about it. “She’s registered to take the PSAT in the spring. We have everything on track.”

Emma shifted in discomfort at the blatant lie, shooting Leila a look in bewildered solidarity, and the two of them watched Regina together, completely at ease with the untruth she was feeding to Cora like it was candy. Leila’s heart began to pound with distrust, while simultaneously aching for Regina to make reassuring eye contact with her. It never happened; her gaze remained trained specifically, methodically on the asparagus she was cutting daintily into smaller pieces. Leila gave up, turning her eyes instead to fix Cora with a particularly annoyed glare.

“Well at least some things can be corrected later in life. I’ll expect to see the results of her test so we can make adjustments leading into the SAT. You did quite well Regina, if I remember correctly. Hopefully she has your aptitude, but aptitude only takes you so far without proper training.”

Emma spoke up then, sliding her hand away from Regina’s knee to rest gently on the table’s surface, and she cleared her throat to bring Cora’s attention to herself once more. “Like Leila said before, she’s only in the tenth grade. She’s got plenty of time to adjust to her new school, to take tests, and improve her scores. _And_ to decide if she even _wants_ to go to college, which she does not have to do.”

Regina finally looked up and noted the identical skeptical looks being directed her way, and she knew in that moment that she had royally fucked up.

“What do you mean _if_ she wants to go?” Cora demanded haughtily, her nose turning up at Emma’s mere suggestion that she might not. “Why wouldn’t she?”

“Leila has had...a different kind of life,” Emma reminded her gently, and though she wanted to cower under the scrutiny Cora was oozing in her direction, she resisted. “ACT and SAT scores and scholarships and dorm rooms don’t register on the same level of importance when you’re more focused on survival from one day to the next.”

Leila could do little more than nod through the sudden tears gathering somewhere near the base of her throat, making her swallow more thickly at the deep understanding Emma had shown of her inner motivations. “Right. Yes. That.”

“But her life is different now,” Regina argued quietly, but passionately from the other end of the table. “She’s in a great school with great opportunity and a support system in place. She’ll be able to do anything she desires.”

“You can’t rewire an entire lifetime’s system of beliefs in six months, Regina,” Emma disagreed, equally quietly, not exactly excluding the rest of the table, but speaking with a tone that she knew indicated a certain level of intimacy and trust. “Even though you may want to. It’s a process.”

“Oh, would you look at that?” Leila blurted shrilly, jumping up from her seat and slipping her phone into the pocket of her dress, brushing away the newly wrinkled front in much the same way Regina was in the habit of doing. “The water pitcher is empty...it’s important to...stay hydrated?”

She snatched it from the table and rushed into the kitchen without another word, leaving the other three women to continue their disagreement with Henry watching like it was a particularly riveting tennis match, barely noticing the girl’s exit amid their vehemence.

“And how would you know so much about it?” Cora rounded on Emma then, though still sitting prim and tall against the back of her chair. “Spent an abundance of time questioning your own ability and intelligence, Miss Swan? Or perhaps you simply grew up in less fortunate circumstances yourself? Maybe the wrong side of the tracks?”

“Oh, bite me,” Emma snapped back, having finally reached her limit. “I grew up in Sugar Mill Point, in the same house my parents bought when I was a baby, and you know that because you’ve known my family since before I was born. We were never wealthy, but we never struggled. I know so much about it because I’m considerate and I listen and I _care_. That’s what good parents do.”

“And what, pray tell, do you think it is that _I’ve_ been doing for the last six months? _Not_ caring about her?” Regina shifted the tone of the fight directly between herself and Emma, which was the last thing she’d expected to happen. But Emma had made her feel small and irrelevant and _attacked_ , and it triggered every instinct she possessed to fight back.

“I know you care, Regina,” Emma assured her impatiently, cutting her eyes to the side with annoyance without actually meeting Regina’s hard, impenetrable stare, preferring to stay squared off with Cora for the moment. It couldn’t become Emma vs. Regina; it needed to remain the two of them vs. the problem at hand, and if she allowed the fight to flourish, that was exactly what would happen. “But you _have_ spent six months building her up and making her feel safe and supported, and then you pulled the rug out from under her in less than a minute in order to impress your mother.”

Regina blanched, her jaw slackening, and opened her mouth to fire back at Emma, but the other woman didn’t let up enough to allow it.

“And for what? Irony? You wanted so badly in the moment to make your mom proud of you for being _a good mom_ that you made your own daughter feel like you were ashamed of her.”

“I did _not_ -” Regina began, but found she couldn’t finish as she replayed the previous ten minutes in her mind’s eye. The betrayed look on Leila’s face, her sudden, shifty disappearance; her stomach dropped like it was made of stone to her feet. She had done precisely what she’d been trying to avoid for the last sixteen years.

She had become her mother.

Regina, feeling abruptly very ill, made to rise from her seat and go after Leila-- to apologize, to make it _right_ \-- when the sudden, loud roaring of a motorcycle sounded from outside, combined with the slamming of the front door.

“What on earth was that?” Cora inquired, judgemental and alarmed, and they all turned to look at Leila’s empty seat; they had hardly registered her disappearance, but there it was, her chair vacated and cold beside a nonplussed Henry, still shoveling whipped potatoes into his mouth without abandon. He suddenly felt the eyes of the three women upon him in his sister’s absence, and he swallowed heavily, shrugging as though they were being very dense.

  
“Whale neck guy,” he explained, and while Regina began to pace the length of the table anxiously, her dinner completely forgotten, Emma had to conceal a small smile behind the back of her hand at his nonchalance. At ten years old, Henry was often the most put-together, collected person in any room, and it always made her exasperated and proud in equal measure.

“Henry, maybe you should go to your room,” Emma suggested quietly, sharing with him a knowing look, and he was all too eager to nod and jump up from his seat, hastily carry his plate through to the kitchen, and run upstairs to get away from the tension.

“Yes, what stellar, _good_ parenting you must exhibit to my clearly impressionable granddaughter, Miss Swan. Since you know so much,” Cora lectured her, reproachful, and threw her linen napkin down onto her dinner plate, rising from the table smoothly and with clear disdain. “I can assure you _my_ daughter would never have done such a thing. I certainly didn’t raise her to ride off into the night straddling the back of some degenerate on a motorcycle.”

“No, you didn’t,” Emma agreed, finally standing as well and leaning down hard against both palms on the surface of the table, her palms tingling uncomfortably against the fabric of the tablecloth. “You just raised her to feel so isolated and lonely that she had to hide a pregnancy, and everything else about her life, including her extreme depression from you. Now _there’s_ an example of stellar parenting.”

“Both of you stop!” Regina insisted, her voice as shrill and thin as Leila’s had been before she left. But with both of their attention returned to her, she took a deep, calming breath and addressed Cora specifically. “I think it’s safe to say this evening has come to a close.”

“As you wish, dear,” Cora acquiesced, allowing Regina to lead her through the dining room and into the foyer, leaving a perplexed, ruffled Emma to trail behind them cautiously. She came from a family that communicated, perhaps _too_ much, and the way Regina and Cora clearly intended to sweep the entire event under the rug was baffling to her. “I can’t say I’m surprised by what I’ve witnessed here tonight, nor am I pleased.”

“Let me get your coat for you, Mother,” Regina let out through gritted teeth, yanking open the door to the coat closet and retrieving the inky black trenchcoat somewhat aggressively from its hanger. “Do enjoy the rest of your time in Storybrooke. I don’t imagine we’ll be seeing much more of you?”

“I don’t imagine you will,” Cora confirmed, glancing over Regina’s shoulder to where Emma hovered near the bottom of the staircase, fuming. “But you seem to have everything _so_...under control here, don’t you, dear?”

“Have a good night,” Regina ignored her question, opening the front door as a gentle suggestion, the lightest flurries of snow swirling inside in stark contrast to the warm house. Cora stepped out into the night then, turning over her shoulder to give Regina that one small, secret smile, less genuine than it had ever been.

“Well done, darling,” She declared, blood red lips pursing derisively. “I do hope you know what you’re doing.”

And then as quickly as she’d come, she was gone, tearing away from the mansion in her sleek, black rental car, and Regina knew it was the last they’d see of her. The impression had been made, and that was enough for Cora. She sighed, closing the door softly with a _click_ into place, and she turned and leaned her back against it, her head tilting backwards to rest against it, her eyes closed against the headache that had been brewing all evening.

Emma crossed the space between them tentatively, her heart heavy with the knowledge that things were about to become much, much worse. “Regina.”

Her head rolled forward and her eyes opened, though they were squinted as she regarded Emma hesitantly. “Emma?”

“Could you move, please?”

Regina tilted her head in confusion this time, but shifted her body to the side, and then her eyes widened in horror as she realized why Emma had asked; she was retrieving her own jacket from the closet, shrugging it over her shoulders and shaking her hair out from beneath it as she regarded Regina with a piercing, and yet somehow understanding, stare.

“You’re _leaving_?” Regina breathed out in disbelief, and though she had asked her to move, she found herself instead inching more firmly in front of the door, blocking her impending exit. “Now?”

“I asked you to move,” Emma repeated quietly, zipping up the front of her jacket and crossing her arms in front of her chest, not daring to move any closer for fear of losing her resolve. Because she _wanted_ to stay, more than anything. She wanted to sweep Regina up and hold her close and make her feel secure. But they hadn’t been a team all evening; Regina had made sure of that, and so Emma was left adrift in a sea of feelings she’d need to wade through before she could possibly manage Regina’s as well.

Flabbergasted, Regina moved aside, allowing Emma to place her hand on the doorknob, but she couldn’t just let her go without saying _something_ . “How can you possibly be leaving me right now? After all of that? This disastrous evening was all _your_ fault.”

“Oh, make no mistake, every bit of tonight was _your_ fault,” Emma disputed, her voice more harsh than it had been with Regina in quite a while; and yet, she still couldn’t help the hurt tone that slipped out, though she’d wanted to keep that part to herself. She removed her hand from the door, moving to stand squarely across from Regina, close enough to make her point, but not nearly close enough to make her crumble. “And I meant what I said before dinner. You couldn’t have helped what happened to Leila after you let her go. But tonight? Every day that you have her back now? You can help. You _have_ to help. And tonight you didn’t. You fucked up.”

Regina had no argument for that, and she hung her head shamefully as Emma’s words washed over her.

“Tonight was on you. You contradicted the mom you’ve shown Leila you want to be to her and instead chose to be your mother,” Emma knew it was the lowest blow possible, but she didn’t care. “You made it sound like you’d give Leila no say in her own future, just like Cora gave you no say in yours.”

The realization that she was devastatingly right hit Regina like a ton of bricks, nearly knocking her down with the force of it. Emma shook her head sadly, breaking her own rule to reach out and stroke Regina’s cheek softly, swiping beneath her eye with the pad of her thumb as she watched tears well in her eyes.

“You have some apologies to work out. I’ll let you figure out who you owe them to, and you can let me know when you’ve done that,” Emma suggested, and in a flash of blonde hair and dark leather, she, too, was gone.

Regret shook her the moment she closed the door, but Emma knew that she’d chosen the right course of action, no matter how much it hurt to shut Regina into the house behind her. She took a deep breath, relishing the way tiny snowflakes settled against her cheeks in the biting cold, and set off into the night. She had a sixteen year old rebel to find, and she thought she knew just the place where she might have run.  

  



	20. Chapter 20

 

It hadn’t been very long since Emma Swan had roamed the streets of Storybrooke as a teenager, and while she may not have been doing so on the back of a motorcycle, she _did_ think she might have some idea of what the best runaway locations would be.

Her go-to then, and presumably Leila’s now, was always the back room at Granny’s. If her parents sought her out, they never searched beyond the actual dining room, leaving Emma to her solitude beside the old and worn (even then) pool tables to work out whatever teenage angst was plaguing her at the time.

In many ways, though she biologically belonged to Regina, Leila was _just_ like Emma. They seemed to understand each other, almost down to the very soul, and the knowledge of this spurred Emma on to drive just a little faster, taking the corner more quickly than she perhaps should have before throwing her Jeep into park in front of the diner, a satisfying wave of triumph washing over her at the sight of the plain black motorcycle parked nearby.  She rushed inside, pushing the door open harshly, and made awkward, instant eye contact with Ruby, who was carrying a tub full of dirty dishes towards the kitchen.

“In the back,” she supplied knowingly, and Emma offered her an apologetic, grateful smile. Ruby returned it, albeit tentatively and not exactly friendly, and when she pushed the swinging kitchen door open with her hip, Emma started immediately through the hallway in the back of the dining room leading to everyone’s secret hideaway. The sight that met her, while not surprising, did little to calm her pounding, irritated heartbeat.

The first thing she registered was Leila perched on the edge of the pool table, both hands wrapped around a pool stick anchored on the ground between her legs, chuckling at whatever whispered words were being poured into her ear by the long, lanky, leather-clad boy pressed against her. Emma wished desperately to become furious, but the angry feelings would only bubble up as far as her chest before settling calmly near her stomach once more. If she had been in Leila’s position, she would have done exactly the same thing, so she understood.

But that didn’t make it any more pleasant to view, so she cleared her throat, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed in a way that she hoped came across as both casual and menacing.

“Leila.”

The girl startled, pushing away Whale Neck Guy with a rough shove to his chest as she jumped down from the table, wrapping her arms around her midsection uncomfortably. “Emma!”

“It’s time for you to come home. _Now_.”

Leila bristled with embarrassment at being told what to do, especially in front of a boy she wanted desperately to impress. If she were still in Boston, she would have hopped onto the back of Ace’s motorcycle and stayed out all night without a care in the world, and whatever foster mom she’d been avoiding at the time would probably have barely noticed.

But here she was in Storybrooke, and she’d barely managed half an hour of escapism without being caught and dragged back. It was bullshit. And while she knew rationally Emma had been the only one on her side all evening, the fact that she was here now ruining her evasion felt like a betrayal of its own.

“ _Mom_ ,” she whined, low and exasperated, and it startled them both the moment it left her lips. It was a term she’d as of yet only given to Regina, and barely so. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“That’s my job,” Emma replied firmly, breezing past the moment as though it hadn’t happened, though she did allow herself the brief, warm satisfaction that came with the confirmation that Leila did, in fact, feel like Emma’s daughter as well as Regina’s.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Mills, I didn’t mean to get Leila in trouble,” the boy offered sheepishly, and Emma couldn’t help the way her face contorted in confusion at the incorrect address until she put the pieces in place from his perspective; the girl he liked, Leila _Mills_ had been accosted by her overbearing, very similarly blonde mother, and he obviously didn’t know her parents. He had just assumed, along with certain physical traits, that they shared a name as well.

“It’s Swan,” Emma replied flatly, and Leila’s glare intensified. “So you’re Ace, then. What’s your real name, kid?”

“It’s August,” He answered, hurrying across the room to shake her hand eagerly, and Emma had to stifle a laugh at his awkward, nervous energy in direct opposition to his rough and tough exterior. She could tell from the corner of her eye that Leila wasn’t enjoying even one bit of how this turn of events was playing out, but she shook his hand amicably and offered a grim smile anyway. “But I’m a pretty decent pitcher, so they call me Ace.”

“Alright, fine,” Emma nodded slowly, and the pace at which they shook hands slowed simultaneously. And suddenly, she gripped his hand firmly- too firmly, perhaps- within her own and fixed him with a serious, vaguely threatening smirk. “So you seem okay. But let me be clear; if I ever hear that motorcycle leaving my house with my daughter on the back of it again, I _will_ crush both this hand and that bike.”

He gulped, nodding fervently, and with a satisfied nod, Emma grinned, using her free hand to clap him on the shoulder fondly. “Pleasure meeting you, Ace. Leila?”

The girl looked up from where she’d been staring at her boots in furious embarrassment, but Emma’s eyes never left the boy’s. “Let’s go.”

 

\--------

 

The ride home was relatively silent, Leila's loud sighs the only sound permeating the dark space once Emma had decided and bestowed upon her her first real punishment. To Leila, it was perhaps the most mortified she’d ever been in her life, and for sneaking out, at least from Emma, she received a week of grounding. And while that may have been a considerably short time, it was still something she’d never _actually_ allowed anyone to impose upon her in her entire life.

As they turned onto Mifflin, Leila finally broke her silence, rounding on Emma with renewed indignance. “Okay, so I probably shouldn’t have left, but I still don’t get why you’re _grounding_ me for it. You’ve always said I can leave if I feel like I need to. And I did, and now I’m being punished. That’s fucked.”

Emma took a deep, calming breath, allowing the swearing for the moment as she felt it was the least pressing issue at hand. “I _have_ always said that. You’re right. But this time, you specifically asked me if you could go, and I _specifically_ said no. You deliberately disobeyed me.”

“So now I’m expected to _obey_ you?” Leila scoffed, incredulous.

“You’re expected to respect me,” Emma corrected her quietly, pulling into the driveway and coming to a slow stop. “And you don’t owe me anything, but I would hope you’d be willing to give me in return what I’ve already given to you.”

Leila remained seated, her hand pressed against the button to unlock her seatbelt, but felt frozen as she processed Emma’s words. Respect was a currency with which she had always been familiar. Emma had been the only one who’d had her back tonight, and here she was, being a ruthless brat in return.

“I’m sorry,” she replied softly, relaxing back into her seat, not quite able to meet Emma’s eyes, but not quite able to exit the vehicle either. “I do respect you. I shouldn’t have run out tonight, if only for you.”

“Thank you. I agree,” Emma smiled, and though Leila rolled her eyes, she smiled back. She shut off the engine, and they each jumped down from the Jeep, one door closing right before the other, as they trudged side by side through the snow and up the walk to the front door.

They arrived home to find a very exhausted, very awake, very _busy_ Regina Mills, if anything could be inferred by the warm, spiced smells emanating from the direction of the kitchen.

“Oh no, is she... _baking_?” Leila groaned. “Is that all because of me?”

Emma shrugged and reached for Leila’s coat to hang next to her own. “Let’s just say things with your grandmother did not go well after you left.”

Leila gave her _the look_ and Emma threw her hands up in surrender. “Okay so she and I might have gotten into a fight. Which led to Regina and I—it wasn’t the best performance all around.”

“We really messed this whole thing up, didn’t we?”

“Big time.” Emma responded, walking nearer to the kitchen doors, preparing to enter. To her surprise, Leila placed a hand on her arm, holding her back her from entering.

“No, let me. I think she and I might need to talk. Are you going to your place?”

Emma sighed, unsure what she should actually do. On one hand, she felt she had absolutely been justified in leaving when she did. On the other, Regina was _also_ right, and it _would_ be unfair to leave her alone after such a horrendous evening.

“I’ll probably just crash on the couch,” Emma decided. “Let her know I’m home though, will you?” And with Leila's firm, sad smile, Emma excused herself to the family room to pass out and sleep the events of the evening away.

Leila, however, knew she had at least an hour more of emotional heavy-lifting to do before she could follow suit. She took a large, deep breath and exhaled slowly through her mouth, pushing open the kitchen door to take in the sight of Regina, furiously rolling out dough with a bib apron tied tightly around her waist to protect her dress. Her hair was tied elegantly into a twist at the nape of her neck, a dot of flour on the tip of her nose. She was such a holiday _mom_ in that moment, and while some part of her felt a stab of annoyed betrayal at the very sight of her, Leila thought perhaps she had never loved her more.

“Another pie?” Leila inquired softly, alerting Regina to her presence as she strode across the room to take up residence in one of the high bar stools, directly across from where her mother worked.

Regina could barely make eye contact, Leila observed with dismay, but she did offer a small, hopeful, regretful smile somewhere in Leila’s general direction. “Cinnamon rolls. I thought we could bake them off in the morning.”

“Yum,” Leila groaned, and she realized with a pang how very little of her dinner she had actually consumed. “Will you make that glaze with the orange in it?”

Regina finally grinned, albeit still a little hesitant, and gestured towards a bowl of whitened oranges, already divested of their zest. “Your favorite.”

“I know,” Leila confirmed, her brow furrowing in concern at the heightened fervor with which Regina had resumed her assault on the glossy dough. “I mean, hey...I was kinda mad at you, but you didn’t have to bribe me with dessert.”

“And you didn’t have to run away,” Regina countered, a clip to her tone that Leila knew had to be the last bit of her stubbornness holding on. “We all have our coping mechanisms.”

“Fair enough,” Leila shrugged, waiting a moment for her to respond in _any_ way, but when she realized it wasn't going to be let go, she continued. "I felt trapped, you know? Everyone was talking about me and nobody bothered to _include_ me and I panicked. I didn't mean to ruin everything, I'm sorry."

The reply was immediate and a little surprising, at least to her.

“No, I’m sorry,” Regina sighed and set aside her rolling pin to fold her hands primly, fingers drumming anxiously on the marble countertop as she made significant eye contact with Leila. “I went against everything I’ve been building with you since we were brought together, and I betrayed your trust. I should have stood firm for you in front of my mother. I should have protected your interests over my own. I didn’t, and I’m sorry.”

Through the moment that met her apology with stilted silence, Regina swallowed hard, a floured hand reaching up to tuck her a loose lock of hair behind her ear and leaving behind a streak of white within the dark strands that made Leila smile. “Will you accept my apology?”

Leila hesitated a moment more, but it was truly all she’d needed to hear. She knew Regina had just buckled under some invisible pressure she would never be able to understand. After all, she had a caring mother, and Regina did not. It had just taken her a lot longer to find hers. She smiled again, her eyes crinkling in a way that prompted Regina’s to do the same. She nodded. “Sure.”

The silence between them grew more comfortable as Regina resumed her task, pristinely cutting rows of dough into pieces more manageable for rolling into round, layered breakfast pastry. Leila, unable to stand her hunger any longer, hopped down from her seat, crossed over to the fridge, and searched the stacks of reusable containers for leftovers from dinner. She emerged moments later, a bowl of roasted broccoli in hand, and returned to her seat. Regina looked up, noticed her, and wrinkled her nose in displeasure as she began lifting florets out with her fingers and eating them.

“Don’t you want to microwave that?” She suggested uselessly, as Leila continued to pop the chilled vegetables like her favorite kind of popcorn.

“Why bother?” Leila shrugged, and with a mere shrug and one last look of mild judgement over her decision, Regina began to transfer the rolled dough onto a baking sheet to be wrapped and stored for the morning. “For the record...I do think about college.”

Regina stopped, her hand stilling in the middle of her task, and then continued a little more slowly, thoughtfully, and Leila knew she had her attention. “Oh?”

“I do,” Leila repeated with a firm, assured nod, and Regina glanced up to meet her earnest gaze.

“Emma was right,” Regina sighed, soft and low, with obvious remorse. “The decision is absolutely yours. I’m so proud of how well you’ve done and how you’ve risen to the occasion in this new situation. That will always be enough for me.”

Leila flushed; no matter how often Regina said these words, she still didn’t seem to be able to register them without some form of embarrassment over the attention. And while she believed them, she couldn’t quite let one thing go. “No, it won’t.”

“I beg your pardon?” Regina replied, flustered, and her hand lost control of the plastic wrap she had been winding around the cinnamon rolls.

"It won’t be enough for you, and that’s okay,” Leila realized as she said it aloud. “Because you want to give me my best chance. You always have. And maybe that’s as simple as living here with you and having a real family that wants me, but maybe it’s also pushing me to get a better education. I’m just barely keeping it together right now, and I’m not _ready_ to be thinking about the next step. I really just need to be focused on finishing _Wuthering Heights_ , not worrying about getting into Harvard. You know?”

“Why would you worry about getting into Harvard? I never said it had to be _my_ alma mater,” Regina said, offering Leila a sly smile. “You could always go to Emma’s. It doesn’t even have to be in Boston.”

“But I love Boston,” Leila argued, and Regina dipped her head in acknowledgement as Leila’s face screwed up in confusion. “Wait, you went to Harvard when the rest of them went to Boston U? But you all lived together.” She paused, the pieces of the story lining up in her mind. “You commuted to _Cambridge_ every day instead of living on campus? _Why_?”

Regina shrugged, the answer simple as could be in her own opinion. “Emma needed a roommate. She asked Tink, Tink asked me.”

“God, you’re gross,” Leila complained, her nose wrinkling in distaste. “You were whipped a decade before she even started dating you.”

“You think so?” Regina replied coolly, one eyebrow quirked in response. “Says the girl who hopped on the back of a strange motorcycle in the dead of night on the spur of the moment with what’s-his-name. Moby Dick?”

“First of all, the dead of night is a _stretch_ ,” Leila argued, her cool tone reflecting Regina’s. “It’s barely 10:30 now. And secondly, his name is Ace.”

“ _Much_ better,” Regina rolled her eyes, but the hint of mirth behind it couldn’t be concealed.

“Don’t be a prude, he’s great,” Leila bristled, and so did Regina at the accusation.

“Fine,” She agreed hurriedly. “I’m sure he is, if you like him, but the next time Monstro wants to take you out, you will go about it properly. Agreed?”

“Fine,” Leila agreed, but with no hostility behind it. “I mean, Emma already threatened to break his hand, so we’re all covered on the Terrifying Mom front. She also grounded me for a week.”

“Emma?” Regina’s breath caught in her chest, a renewed ache spreading through her limbs as their brief, recent fight washed over her anew. “Emma came to get you?”

“Do you really think I’d have come home when I did if she hadn’t?” Leila reasoned with a significant, suggestive look, and Regina found she didn’t quite like it at all. She made a mental note that she and Emma really needed to discuss the possibility of having the Talk with Leila, as she seemed to think it was fine to casually have girl talk about boys with her mother.

 _Well_ , Regina reminded herself, _isn’t it better that she does want to tell you these things instead of hiding them, like you would have done?_ Maybe she wasn’t quite turning into her own mother after all.

“I suppose not,” Regina brushed past the suggestion, returning her focus to what she considered the more pressing matter. “So Emma is…”

“Here,” Leila confirmed, smirking behind Regina’s back as her mother turned away from her to needlessly rearrange the items in the fridge, presumably to cover her own relief at this piece of news. “Asleep on the couch.”

“Okay,” Regina replied, still turned away, and then she quickly closed the refrigerator doors, spinning around swiftly. “Why don’t you go up to bed then? Since you’ve been grounded, after all.”

“Ugh. Okay.” And though she wanted to protest, Leila simply heaved a loud sigh, hopped down once more from her chair, shoved it against the island, and made to leave the kitchen. Before she did, however, she felt propelled towards Regina and threw herself at her, arms circling around her middle for a brief, tight hug. She didn’t accompany it with any words; she didn’t need to, and Regina knew this too.

After a quick check upstairs and a peek through cracked bedroom doors that everyone was in place and settled (Henry, who’d tucked himself in as he had been doing more often lately, and Leila, curled up within a fluffy down blanket, the screen of her phone illuminating her smirking face,) Regina returned to the first floor to finish cleaning her baking mess in the kitchen. She wished it had taken longer, but she was really quite tidy about the whole process, and similarly efficient about the breakdown. She wanted to be given more time alone with her thoughts, despite her original protests against Emma leaving her in the first place. But she found that now, simply knowing that Emma was somewhere in the house made her feel the slightest bit of unease.

It had been quite a while since they’d had a fight, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to revisit that stage of their relationship. Things had been better between them than she had ever predicted they could be, even in her wildest dreams, and she was terrified of losing that; the way she lost everything each time her mother breezed in and out of town, wrecking relationships and reputations and lives. Hurricane Cora, indeed.

But it could no longer be avoided. She had pulled down a bag of new, roasted holiday-inspired coffee beans to be ground and brewed in the morning, pre-set the kitchen for breakfast, and adjusted all of the lights to their lowest setting, giving her home the dim, warm glow she craved from January to November every year. The only thing left to do was enter the family room, find Emma there, and apologize. Surely it wouldn’t be that difficult, right? But it certainly seemed to be, as she crossed the threshold, facing the back of the large couch which she knew would reveal Emma as soon as she stepped close enough to be able to see over it.

And there she was, in all of her wonderful, soft _Emma_ glory. The twinkling, blinking lights from the nearby Christmas tree bathed her in a warm glow, and though she’d removed her leather jacket and boots in the entryway as always, she hadn’t bothered to change into more comfortable clothes, leaving her in the dark grey sweater and tight black jeans she’d worn to dinner. They hugged her body in ways that made Regina’s heart race, that tiniest bit of skin showing where her sweater always bunched up above her stomach in her sleep.

A sudden, forbidden image of Emma, sleeping just like this, flashed behind Regina’s eyes; that first night in a Boston hotel, blonde curls cradling her head after hours spent wrapped around Regina’s fingers, desperate words whispered through an aching goodbye.

_Please don’t go._

_Oh, Emma. I don’t have a choice._

But she did now, she mused internally, thoughtful as she watched Emma sleep on. She had always had a choice. But she had needed Emma’s bravery, Leila’s strength, and Henry’s cleverness to make the right one.

She had needed her family.

She sighed, reaching for the blanket folded precisely over the back of where Emma lay and softly draped it over her, tucking her in gently with a soft, firm kiss to the forehead. She gazed at her a second longer before whispering an almost imperceptible _I love you_.

And then she retreated, leaving Emma alone to rest peacefully within the glow, and made her way upstairs to her bedroom, craving the solitude and quiet it would provide to find her own sense of peace after such an awful, eventful night.

 

\--------

 

Leila awoke on the morning of Christmas Eve, well-rested and comfortable, but shivering from an unexpected cold; the house was always, unwaveringly warm, and she constantly marveled at how different this winter season of her life had been compared with any before it. The spirit of her home, in general, was one thing. It seemed that every appropriate surface or doorway was strung with ribbon-wrapped garland and twinkling lights, the low hum of holiday tunes permeating each room with a consistent background noise, the soundtrack of her first real, happy Christmas with a family and a home to call her own.

She had upheld her week of grounding. She finished all of her assignments for school, she’d been staying in and being helpful to both of her mothers, and playing with Henry even when she didn’t necessarily feel like it; it was perhaps the best behavior she had exhibited since arriving in Storybrooke, and she was nearly exhausted from the effort of it all. Her only hope was that as a gift from the universe for rising so early, her mom would have made those perfect Saturday morning cinnamon rolls again; the perfect kick-off to her return to freedom.

Before she could do much more than scroll through a few pages of updates on her phone, the door to her bedroom burst open, ushering in an excitable little brother in thick, flannel matching pajamas that were becoming the tiniest bit too short on him.

“Get up, it’s Christmas,” Henry announced, in a voice that did little to hide that he was absolutely not going to put up with any moodiness from her, if she had any intentions of slipping back into her typical surly morning attitude.

“It’s tomorrow, dork,” Leila replied, her own personal brand of a good morning wish, and she cleared her throat of its gravelly tone.

“Christmas is a fully forty-eight hours, in case no one’s ever told you,” he informed her, in a haughty sort of way that reminded her unnervingly of Regina. “So get up. Breakfast is ready. It’s still hot if you go downstairs before noon.”

“Ooh, who gave you a bucket full of sass for Christmas?” Leila grumbled, but she swung her legs over the side of her bed anyway, hissing at the cold of the hardwood floor against her bare feet. “Just let me shower, okay?”

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes, backing out of the room and into the hallway. “But it’s not my problem if all the cinnamon rolls are gone before you get down there.”

Leila paused halfway to the bathroom, her lips pursed in thought. “Maybe my shower can wait.”

Predictably, once Henry had beaten her in a race down the stairs, they burst simultaneously through the kitchen door, startling the two women already seated at the table, sipping casually from steaming mugs as they shared the morning paper.

It struck Leila all at once how _at home_ she felt, though it seemed to go unnoticed by everyone else. Henry took his seat between Regina and Emma, jerking his head towards the one across from him that Leila always occupied, the look on his face indicating that he worried something may be wrong with her for not rushing to the food like he had done. But it was as though she was rooted to the spot, observing them all as tears threatened to spill over.

There was Henry himself, scooping as many pastries onto his plate as he possibly could at once, smiling in gratitude at Emma for pouring him a glass of apple juice. He was so innocent and earnest, the brightest part of any day despite the way he could annoy her beyond measure. He had bright, brown eyes, so like her own even despite their lack of genetic connection, that held a laugh when she felt she needed it most. He protected her fiercely the way a brother should, never bothered by the six years that separated them. He had the heart of the truest believer, and his insistence in the existence of magic had broken her down so much that while she still made fun of him for it, the tiniest part of her had begun to believe too, whether she’d ever admit it or not.

And Emma, her mother who never _had_ to be, smiling at her in that closed-mouth way that crinkled her eyes in the corners, before reaching across the table to pour from the new, shiny French press into Leila’s favorite, brightly-patterned mug to coax her in closer. “Morning, kid.”

And then, of course, there was Regina, her hair tied into that same classic, regal twist reserved for early mornings and late nights, smiling at her so brightly it made her chest heavy with the weight of it, before her brow wrinkled in concern at the way Leila hovered in the doorway, not moving any closer. “Is everything okay?”

_Fine. Just being a complete loser and crying over the fact that I feel love, for once._

“I’m good,” Leila cleared her throat, plastered on a cool smirk, and took her seat across from Henry, who had somehow already devoured nearly two cinnamon rolls. “Breakfast looks great.”

“My best yet, I think,” Regina agreed absentmindedly, scribbling a long answer into her crossword puzzle before tapping impatiently at four squares below it. She looked reluctantly across the table to Emma, and Leila got the impression that she’d been avoiding this outcome. “‘Your little dog too’?”

“T-o-t-o,” Emma supplied without hesitation, clearly suppressing a triumphant smile at Regina’s ineptitude, and Regina nearly growled under her breath as she scratched in the four letters with a bit more aggression than Leila felt the paper deserved.

“So what are we doing today?” She changed the subject smoothly, unwrapping a roll with her fingers and breaking it apart, shoving one sticky piece into her mouth after another. “Since apparently Christmas takes two days to do?”

“It does,” Emma confirmed. She was buttering the top of a croissant methodically “I mean, it takes that one channel twenty-four hours just to play _A Christmas Story_ over and over again.”

Leila had no idea what _A Christmas Story_ was, and she had exactly zero intention of finding out at the enthusiastic nod of agreement she could see Henry giving from the corner of her eye.

“We’ll be doing whatever your grandparents want to do, I suppose,” Regina carried on, and Leila was thankful not for the first time that the Mills half of the household didn’t seem to share the same unbridled holiday enthusiasm as the Swan half. “As they’re coming to spend the day with us.”

“Really?” Both Henry and Leila inquired curiously, simultaneously, and Emma rolled her eyes in disgruntled annoyance as she took a large bite of the croissant.

“Your mother had the bright idea of inviting them over,” she explained, gently swiping a crumb from the corner of her mouth. “And then I couldn’t get us out of it.”

Regina hummed, choosing not to answer, and returned her attention to her crossword with the most vague suggestion of amusement behind her eyes. They all knew that Emma would love spending the holiday with her parents, it was just a matter of getting her there. And in this case, it had been infinitely easier to just bring David and Mary-Margaret into the fold. Leila snickered under her breath at the way Emma blew out a frustrated breath, stabbing her scrambled eggs a little too harshly. She couldn’t help the leap of excitement that occurred somewhere in her midsection.

This was what she’d always thought it would be like to have a family at Christmas. Annoying little brother, calmly bickering parents, overzealously warm grandparents?

She couldn’t wait.

 

\--------

 

“Do you want to build a snowman?”

Henry was hovering somewhere near the front door, bouncing on the balls of his feet impatiently while David bundled up for the quest, wrapping his scarf around and around his neck for extra warmth. Emma was already outside waiting for them; she had trudged into the snow armed with an oversized, piping hot thermos of hot chocolate, already anticipating Henry’s favorite part of every Christmas Eve, provided they’d had enough snow.

And enough snow they had indeed; it had fallen in abundance overnight, as though arriving just for them. Leila was undecided; Regina was cooking something for dinner that smelled incredible, and she quite liked the idea of sneaking tastes of it since her mother happened to not be in the kitchen to catch her doing so. But Henry was so eager, and it was so hard to turn him down.

The Swans had arrived just after noon, as expected, bearing sheets of cookies, a plethora of wrapped gifts, and pouring affection onto all of them from the moment they walked through the door. There were so many traditions, apparently, that had to be observed. Mary-Margaret was that kind of mom, and while Emma was not, she was willing to go along with each and every one of them with the kind of enthusiasm that told Leila she didn’t hate it as much as she pretended to.

They had made a large batch of eggnog (David had spiked half and snuck Leila a glass or three, but that was strictly between them) and Mary-Margaret had insisted they watch _White Christmas_ , a movie musical that bored Leila to tears but left Regina and Mary-Margaret sitting bundled together in front of the fire, singing along quietly and poorly to all of the songs. They hadn’t noticed when Emma, Leila, and the boys had snuck out of the family room one by one, where they now congregated in the foyer, discreetly attempting to begin a new game.

“Just _one_ snowman?” Leila goaded him, enjoying the way Henry rankled at the challenge, standing the littlest bit taller in his snow boots.

“We can build a snow _army_ ,” David agreed valiantly, and once he was satisfied that everyone was warm and secure enough, he quietly opened the door, and the three of them tumbled out into the brisk, December air.

Emma was patiently waiting, her head tilted back and eyes closed as she let the flurries land on her face, much softer and slower than they had been the whole night previously.  She opened them at the sound of their arrival, greeting them with the biggest grin Leila had ever seen cross her face.

“We’re building a snow army!” David repeated for Emma’s benefit, and she immediately snapped to attention, awarding him with mock salute that made Henry giggle. Leila could tell that this wasn’t the first time they had done this, and she felt warm all over at the prospect of joining them.

“How did my dad let you out here without a hat?” Emma cried, incredulous, and tore the beanie from her own head to shove it firmly down onto an unsuspecting Leila.

“How did they let you out of the store with _this_ one?” Leila fired back, squirming under Emma’s attention and roving her eyes upward to glare at the bright pink, fuzzy monstrosity.

“My mom knitted it,” Emma smiled menacingly, taking slow, mocking steps towards the front door. “Should I go tell her you want one?”

Leila frowned, shaking her head vehemently. “It’s _pink._ Why do you have so many _pink_ things anyway?”

“I went through a phase,” Emma shrugged, crouching down to shovel snow with her hands in Henry’s direction, as he’d already begun shaping the body of a very short snowman. “And I think my mom thinks I never grew out of it.”

David snorted a laugh, confirming Emma’s theory, and reached over to take a long drink from the thermos. He gestured for Leila to join him, and directly opposite where Emma and Henry had begun working, they started to craft a snow soldier of their own, tall and menacing and perfect. They worked in relative, comfortable silence for a while, breaking it only to make jokes about each other’s respective snowmen.

“Ours is fat,” Henry complained, glancing over to Leila’s creation with trepidation. “Why is he so fat?”

“He eats a lot of pizza,” Emma responded absentmindedly, her tongue jutting out of the side of her mouth in concentration as she shaped his midsection.

“So does Grandpa,” Henry argued, gesturing pointedly towards the man in question. “ _He’s_ not fat.”

Leila laughed, and to distract him, lofted a tiny ball of snow in Henry’s direction. She cackled when it hit him squarely on the arm, earning her an indignant stomp of his foot and a much larger snowball pelted her way in retaliation.

“There’s no army yet!” Emma reminded them, ducking out of the way of Leila’s next launch attempt. She brought her arm up to cover her face, only to be hit squarely in the back by an unexpected attack from David, who had snuck around her in a wide circle. She stood slowly, turned in place, and fixed him with a fiery glare.

“That was dirty,” she accused, her voice low and threatening, and both children halted their fight to watch what promised to be a showdown between their elder, unofficial team members.

“All’s fair in love and war,” David quoted, and before he could finish speaking, he was hit squarely in the chest by a particularly unforgiving blow from Henry. Emma smirked, triumphant, and offered Henry a fist bump as Leila ducked around them, moving to join David’s side from a fair firing distance.

“You’re on,” Emma challenged, and the four were lost in a fury of flying snow, squeals of delight and surprise carrying on the harsh wind.

 

\--------

 

Inside the house, much warmer and more relaxed, Regina and Mary-Margaret remained, cozy and comfortable in front of a still-roaring fire and a crooning, cheesy movie to soothe them as afternoon moved into something more closely resembling evening. Though they were wrapped up in separate blankets, it was perhaps the closest Regina had ever been to Emma’s mother, and she reveled in the fact that it wasn’t entirely as unpleasant as Emma probably would have thought it to be.

"Ugh, I just love this movie so much!" Mary-Margaret cried happily; the music was lilting and soft, and Regina bobbed her head in agreement and drained the last sip of her hot chocolate in one large gulp to accommodate the mostly melted marshmallows left at the bottom.

"It's perfect in every way,” Regina mused wistfully. She had always been a sucker for the old musicals, and while she hadn’t really had anyone with whom she could watch this particular one, it had always been a sort of secret Christmas tradition of her own. “Tap dancing; Rosemary Clooney; it’s all just so...wonderful."

She shivered slightly at the mere mention of 'snow' from the song playing in the film and wrapped her thick cardigan the littlest bit tighter around her torso beneath the blanket. Looking to her now empty mug with a pout, she leaned back and over her shoulder to attempt to sweet talk Emma into refilling it for her.

"Emma, darling, would you..." she trailed off; with a slightly panicked look at the room around them, she noticed for the first time that they were in fact, completely alone. It might have been slightly irrational, but she was still somewhat on edge from _Hurricane Cora_ , and she gasped to the woman next to her. "Did _you_ know everyone left?"

"Oh, yes," Mary-Margaret confirmed knowingly, yet oddly cheerfully, her attention never leaving the television screen. "They always leave. They've been gone for half an hour."

Regina squirmed, not accustomed to having her personal abandonment issues lain out right in front of her and so closely to the surface. "And that doesn't bother you even the littlest bit?"

"Well, certainly not this year,” Mary-Margaret smiled warmly, sparing Regina a brief glance before turning her head forward once more. "I've never had someone to _enjoy_ this movie with, so I didn't even register them leaving. They're quite sneaky about it."

Regina sat back, swallowing hard, her fingers itching to reach out for her phone and text Emma, even though she knew she was being silly. She was obviously still _somewhere_ nearby, and Regina was just feeling needy. She settled back in, and after several long moments she felt herself relaxing back into the cushions once more.

"By the way, thank you so much for inviting us to spend Christmas here, Regina,” Mary-Margaret spoke up out of nowhere a little while later, startling Regina with both the noise and the sentiment. “I can't tell you how much it means to me. Emma has always found us quite suffocating, as she’ll tell you, so not having to beg to spend time with everyone on a holiday is truly a gift."

"You could never be suffocating," Regina commented as if it was the most ridiculous thing she'd ever heard. She shifted her body slightly to the side to open the conversation, and pulled her knees into her chest beneath the blanket so she could wrap her arms around them. "I envy the abundance of love and affection, even if I don't quite know what to do with it all."

She laughed softly, almost sadly, as Mary-Margaret reached out to place a hand on her knee. Regina followed the small gesture and smiled sadly at her in response.

"I just wish I could do more for you after all you've done for me over the years."

Mary-Margaret peered at her, perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"You were kind to me growing up, far beyond what a normal teacher should have been," Regina explained, pausing to gather her thoughts before she allowed herself to become even more vulnerable. "You saw how much I was hurting and you showed me another world inside that book of fairy tales and then the one right in front of me-- that there could be a life outside of my mother. Even if I was awful to you, that book-- and you, truthfully -- saved me in a way I could never repay."

"Regina,” the other woman began cautiously, as it was territory she’d never planned to cross. “I know you know that I was skeptical about all of this--you and Emma, you and _Henry_ , you and an impressionable teenager. Regina opened her mouth to form a rebuttals but she was quickly silenced. “But you, like her, have grown into both of these new roles with such beauty and grace. You've made me very proud."

"That means so much to me." Regina placed her open palm to her chest, clutching the fabric of her sweater. Flabbergasted that she'd done _something_ right in all of this. That at least _someone_ thought so.

"I heard your mother paid you a visit last week." Mary-Margaret gave her a sad, pitying look; the subject change was unexpected, but probably necessary. "Are you okay? That couldn't have been easy."

Regina's heart sank at the implication that Mary-Margaret probably knew _exactly_ what had transpired between all of them over the course of her mother's visit. "I--well--it was actually..." she stumbled, not sure how to say how horribly she'd failed at all of it.

"Really terrible?" She gave Regina a knowing, sorrowful look. "She brings out the worst in people because she uses fear as a weapon. And that's _especially_ true with you." She looked Regina right in the eyes, wanting her to feel her words. "Speaking from experience, if you are presented with expectations in a manner that allows you to rise to them for yourself, you flourish. You're incredibly gifted at just about everything." She softened, looking at the woman before her: once a meek but bratty school girl; now a strong, capable, driven woman.

Regina couldn’t help the misty eyes and soft gasp at what felt like someone, a parental sort of someone, truly _knowing_ her for the first time.

"But Cora, she belittles you into believing you have nothing to offer, so you're always trying to catch up and prove her wrong." Mary-Margaret continued, clearly having wanted to let this out for Regina's entire life. "She is a manipulative menace and you've always deserved better. Please don't let the monster _she_ created ever destroy this beautiful life _you've_ created."

When Regina didn’t answer, her throat moving harshly with the effort of swallowing down tears as she blinked furiously towards the ceiling, Mary-Margaret rushed to apologize for possibly overstepping a boundary, but Regina found the words before she could do so.

"I've never been able to talk with anyone like this, not really. Not like you _should_ be able to with your--" She stumbled once more, unsure if she could truly admit what she was feeling; what she’d felt her whole life.

She had spent years in the front row of Mrs. Blanchard’s classroom, eagerly soaking up every fact and story the class had offered by the mother of her desperate, ridiculous crush. And the girl in question herself, Emma, sat stubbornly in the back row, passing notes and causing disruptions for the sake of irritating both of them. Regina had resented her the tiniest bit, even then, for carelessly discarding what she’d have given anything to have: a mother who loved her. Who wanted her. Who was truly proud of her.

And so she lashed out, not on Emma, and not on her own mother, but on Mrs. Blanchard herself, who hadn’t deserved the scathing attitude Regina proffered each and every day. She had rebuked every test score that was less than perfect, arguing for every point missed. She contradicted her in every way she possibly could; and for just a moment, every time, she felt powerful.

It was the wrong lesson to learn, and it had taken her quite some time to unlearn it.

But here she was now, talking with Regina, making her feel seen and cared for and appreciated. In a way Cora never did. In a way Emma had always taken for granted.

"With your mother?" Mary-Margaret supplied kindly, and Regina nodded, not quite able to form the words herself.

"You know, I was never the mother that Emma wanted.” Mary-Margaret admitted, though with no disappointment or malice to her tone. In fact, she sounded rather calm and unaffected by the idea. “She's just _so_ much like her father in every way, and she and I have never really _clicked_....which is fine!"

Regina quirked an eyebrow with a happy smirk. " _But?"_

Mary-Margaret laughed. "But I can't even tell you how pleased I am that you turned out to be _exactly_ the daughter I've always needed. If you'll have me, that is."

Regina grinned, unable to hide how much she appreciated the suggestion. “I can't promise I'll be any good at a relationship like this.”

Mary-Margaret shook her head in that emphatic way she did, that came from being an educator for so many years. "You're absolutely perfect, just the way you are."

After a calm, shared smile, both women settled back into the cushions once more, feeling at ease and comforted by the conversation, and by the time two more dance numbers had passed in a blur of bright color and sound, Mary-Margaret broke the silence again.

"I can't believe you remembered the book,” she commented, her voice full of wonder. “I couldn't believe it when Henry started carrying it with him everywhere he went."

"Thank you for keeping my little secret on that,” Regina admitted. She had never even told Emma the source of the book’s appearance in all of their lives, or that it had happened first to her, sixteen years before, and then to Henry by way of Regina when he was a baby. “I don't want him to know it was me who gave it to him though."

"I didn’t even know it was a secret,” Mary-Margaret laughed; not telling Henry of the book’s true origin had been a happy accident, as she was infamously terrible at keeping secrets; that, however, was a bit of information she decided to keep to herself. “But you’re welcome. Do you think you’ll ever tell him?”

“The time will come,” Regina knew, and it seemed to satisfy Mary-Margaret enough that she let the conversation fade naturally into more relaxed quietude.

 

\--------

 

Four very tired, very wet and shivering bodies trudged through the doorway to the kitchen a few hours later,  where Regina and Mary-Margaret were stood behind the island, one grating a large pile of parmesan cheese onto a sheet of parchment paper while the other plucked leaves of basil from their stems.

“Oh, so you’ve decided to join us,” Regina commented casually, rubbing both palms together to divest them of loose pieces of cheese. She popped an olive into her mouth, brows raised in question at Emma, who was breathing heavily as though she’d just run a mile, leaned against the side of the island with her other hand clutching her side.

“Emma and Henry lost a snowball fight...sorely,” Leila explained as she reached into the same bowl and plucked out two of the marinated olives, despite the way Regina tried to swipe her hand away. “So they quit. Need any help?”

“You can put together the salad,” Mary-Margaret offered, and Leila hopped to it eagerly, moving to root around in the fridge for greens and the usual fare for vegetables.

“Hey, the salad’s always my job,” David complained, his mouth turning down into a frown as he crossed his arms, widening his stance. Emma rolled her eyes; she had straightened to her normal height, having recovered from being so winded, and was retrieving place settings from a nearby drawer. She shoved a stack of smooth, linen placemats into his chest.

“You can help me set the table,” she suggested, leading the way into the formal dining room, which prompted Henry to call after them as they went.

“But _I_ set the table!” He argued, pouting a little as he scrambled onto the unoccupied bar stool, Leila having taken a seat at the other one to gently slice carrots and radishes with a tiny paring knife.

“Why don’t you _both_ go upstairs and get cleaned up?” Regina asked pointedly, making eye contact with each of them in turn. “You’re not having Christmas dinner in wet, dirty clothes.”

“Spoil sport,” Leila grumbled with a dramatic roll of her eyes, but a significant shiver made Regina tilt her head knowingly in response. “Ugh, fine.”

She jumped down from her seat, Henry following suit, and they rushed away and upstairs, leaving Regina and Mary-Margaret chuckling in their wake.

“And throw everything wet into the dryer, your clothes will _not_ be left in a pile on my floors!” She called out after them uselessly, the laugh still apparent in her voice, but the request falling on deaf ears in their haste to exit.

“They’re good kids, Regina,” Mary-Margaret commented, a warmth to her tone that made Regina flush with happiness. “You and Emma...them...you’re all good together.”

“I think so too,” Regina smiled her agreement, just in time for Emma to burst back through the door.

“What else?” Emma prompted, and Regina grinned at the way she was always ready, and willing, to accomplish anything Regina asked of her.

“Go upstairs and get cleaned up,” Regina repeated her previous instruction, gesturing around to the spread of dishes almost completely prepared for dinner. “I think we have everything covered.” She turned to regard David with a bright smile. "You're welcome to use the guest bathroom at the end of the hall upstairs to do the same, David. I'm sure they won't put their clothes in the dryer," she regarded with an eye roll. "So it's all yours."

He nodded, nudging Emma on his way out knowing that it was in everyone's best interest to comply. She looked at him and pushed his arm back just slightly with a smirk.

“Okay,” Emma agreed with a happy grin, and she backed out of the door from whence she had come.

Regina watched her go for a lingering moment, her hands twitching against the cheese grater, before allowing it to clatter against the marble countertop. She brushed them off hastily on the front of her apron before untying it and smoothly tugging it up and over her head, though she did take care to thoughtfully fold it into a neat square and place it gently on an unused cutting board before excusing herself under her breath to Mary-Margaret, barely registering the knowing hum that came from the older woman in response.

Her heart raced as she snuck upstairs as quietly as she possibly could, taking care not to make a sound as she passed both Leila’s and Henry’s bedrooms before gently pushing open the door to her own, closing it behind her with a soft _click._ A quick survey of the room showed her that everything was as she had left it; the bed was pristinely made, side table lamps giving off a low light, though neither compared to the bright light exuded by the en suite bathroom, from where she could hear quiet, cheerful singing.

“ _Feliz navidad..feliz navidad...prospero año y felicidad…_ ”

It had been stuck in Emma’s head for weeks, unyielding and driving her crazy, but she sang it with renewed fervor now that the actual holiday had arrived, and Regina suppressed a smile behind the back of her hand as she crept two tiny steps closer to listen. She hadn’t managed more than that before Emma appeared, barefoot and clad in only those _really_ tight jeans and a simple black bra, and Regina backed hastily against the closed bedroom door, speechless.

Emma brightened upon seeing her, but her face crumpled at the look she saw on Regina’s. “What’s wrong?”

“Get over here,” Regina demanded, her voice no higher than a predatory growl, and Emma didn’t need to be told twice. She eliminated the space between them in a few extremely large steps, and all at once, Regina was pressed into the door at every point, her lips covered by Emma’s and two sets of hands roaming _everywhere_.

They hadn’t kissed like this in a _while,_  Regina knew, and she knew that Emma knew too by the desperate way each kiss began and ended, one blending into another and another as Regina gasped into her mouth repeatedly. There was one hand cradling the back of her neck, which _should_ have felt gentle but couldn’t possibly be with fingers tangled and pulling her hair, another hand roving slowly from her shoulder over her chest, down her side to wrap around the back of her thigh and squeeze in encouragement.

And Regina responded with equal enthusiasm, her leg wrapping around Emma’s hip as though it belonged there, pulling her in closer and closer, punctuated by _oh god_ breathed against her throat, and she threw her head back against the door as kisses and bites traveled lower. Her hands slid easily into the back pockets of Emma’s jeans, anchoring her and giving her leverage and _don’t stop_ and she couldn’t breathe and suddenly they had reversed, tumbling carelessly towards the middle of the bed where Emma fell gracelessly right on top of her. And it was only too easy, then, to wrap _both_ legs around Emma’s hips and hold her there, to close her eyes and arch her back and allow hands to caress from her own hips, up her sides and over her arms to wrap gently around her wrists and hold her in place and --

“Please don’t make me stop,” Emma begged, a whisper somewhere near her ear, and Regina wanted nothing more than to comply.

“Do you think just because you’ve been on your best behavior you get to have Christmas presents early?” Regina murmured, her lips tracing Emma’s jaw, barely making contact. “Because I’ll assure you, that’s not how it works.”

“But I thought for sure I was on the nice list this year,” Emma sat up suddenly, still straddling her hips, still very much pinning Regina down by her wrists, a full, teasing pout on her mouth.

“Perhaps you should have focused a little more on making the naughty list,” Regina suggested, rolling her hips up into Emma’s, causing the other woman to throw her head back with a low groan of discontent. She would ordinarily have come up with some witty retort, some way to keep the banter alive, but with Regina beneath her, all flushed and breathless and swollen lips, she decided the only thing to do was swoop down and kiss her once more.

It lasted several minutes more, increasing in intensity, until the harsh slamming of two nearby doors made Regina jump, accidentally jerking Emma to the side enough that she rolled off and away, leaving them side by side, breathing hard and sharing one long, lingering look of simultaneous longing and annoyance.

“Why did we decide to have kids, again?” Emma complained, throwing her arms above her head at an odd angle in some sort of mild, half-hearted tantrum.

“We didn’t decide that together...or have them together,” Regina chuckled, rolling over to lie half on the bed, half on top of Emma, and kissed the tip of her nose softly. “But I’m glad, somehow, we did it anyway.”

Emma nodded her silent agreement, relishing the way Regina rested her head against the middle of her chest, rising and falling in time with her deep breathing. She stayed only a moment more before sighing heavily and lifting herself from the mattress. She sat up straight, fluffed her hair with both hands and then turned, fixing Emma with such a _look_ over her shoulder it made the other woman shrink beneath the power of it.

“Now come on, get dressed. I refuse to burn the turkey over your raging libido.”

Emma’s mouth gaped open, shocked and indignant. “You followed me up here in the first place! _You_ seduced _me_!”

“Of course I did, darling,” Regina soothed in a tone that they both knew was one she used to turn any situation in her favor. “I’ll meet you downstairs. It might behoove you to...continue to be on your best behavior.”

“It just seems really weird to me that being good is what gets you on the naughty list, in your world,” Emma commented dubiously, lifting herself from the bed and rearranging the sea of ornate throw pillows into their original formation.

“My Christmas, my rules,” Regina shrugged, and with a sly smirk and wink, she leaned over to give Emma one last, searing kiss, and the moment their lips touched, they each jumped back and away in alarm at the shock that coursed through their bodies with the connection.

“What the hell was that?” Emma gasped, touching the tips of her fingers to her lips cautiously as Regina did the same.

“That was strange,” Regina agreed, and she could hardly allow the skin of her hand to touch her lips for the way they crackled with an aggressive sort of charge. “Static electricity?”

“Must be,” Emma replied, and though they both shook it off, she could tell Regina thought it was as odd as she did. It would have had to be _really_ strong static. “The air is really dry, though…”

“Right,” Regina said thoughtfully, and with one last suggestive, and yet sweet smile, she left. Emma made her way into the walk-in closet, deciding that perhaps it wouldn’t hurt her case to wear something acceptably low-cut from Regina’s own wardrobe. She was a little narcissistic that way, and loved to see Emma in her own clothes. Settling on a red sweater with a deep v-cut (she could be festive, after all,) she set about returning downstairs, where the sounds of laughter from everyone else could already be heard ringing out.

 

\--------

 

Dinner was a much more enjoyable affair than it had been a week previously, a fact for which both Emma and Regina were immensely grateful. Empty dishes were transported to the kitchen and left to soak, and the six found themselves gathered in a circle on the floor before the ever-present fire burning in the hearth, Christmas tree looming over them as gifts were exchanged. If Regina blushed while opening the small package that David passed to her from both he and Mary-Margaret, she hoped no one noticed.

 

Henry tackled his gifts with enthusiasm, clearly accustomed to an existence of being both an only child and grandchild, and the exuberant, grateful exclamations of joy over each and every one was a testament to the very reason he seemed to be so spoiled in the first place. Leila, while also enormously thankful and sweet about her collection of presents, had begun to grow sleepier, yawning more frequently, until she had unceremoniously passed out right in the middle of everything, crawling onto the couch behind her and sprawling out in every direction. Regina regarded her with curiosity and leaned casually sideways to comment on the odd behavior to Emma who had also noticed, and was shooting suspicious glances to her father every couple of minutes. After all, she, too had received her first glass of spiked eggnog on her sixteenth Christmas, and when she brought that up aloud, David did nothing more than look up and away innocently, sipping heartily from his own glass.

 

As the Swans were finally ushered by late evening to the foyer by a gleeful Henry and the content and happy couple, Mary-Margaret paused and smiled at Regina in that cherub-like way that she did, rushing at her with a tight, lingering hug as Emma watched them both curiously. “Mom, you don’t have to squeeze her to death.”

Regina turned in the hug to send her a sharp glare. “Oh yes, she does. Leave her be.”

“I meant what I said, Regina.” Mary-Margaret insisted, hands grasping both of Regina’s arms tightly as though this might somehow physically express her sincerity.

“What’d you say?” Emma inquired with a hint of jealousy as she hugged her father distractedly.

“As did I. Perhaps we could get together...once a week? Tea? Breakfast?”

“I’d love that.” Mary-Margaret smiled in that way she did, where she blinked a little too often, and Emma squirmed within the embrace that her mother bestowed upon her next.

“Why are you planning that? What happened while we were outside?”

“You’d know if you hadn’t snuck out, wouldn’t you?” Regina reprimanded her, but with no true severity behind it, and Emma frowned, grumpy, as she rested her head briefly on Mary-Margaret’s shoulder.

“Anyway, Merry Christmas!” David called out, cheerful and with a tone of finality, and he slung his arm across his wife’s shoulder, urging her gently through the door beside him.

“Bye Grandma! Bye Grandpa!” Henry yelled after them, his hands cupped around his mouth to boost the volume of the sound, and he waved that full-body wave of children who were more expressive than they knew what to do with. As David’s truck pulled away from the drive, he turned around and looked at Regina and Emma expectantly, his arms crossed over his chest. “It’s time to watch _Elf_.”

He marched past them with determination in the direction of Regina’s office to retrieve the blu-ray disc, and Regina began to follow him, the corner of her mouth turning up into a smile. “He’s a little bossy about this holiday, you know.”

“Can’t imagine where he gets that from,” Emma agreed, her eyes rolling toward the door significantly as though Mary-Margaret might still be just on the other side of it, prepared and waiting to watch the movie with them.

Despite his enthusiasm, it couldn’t have been more than half an hour before Henry had succumbed to the dim lighting, warm room, and cozy atmosphere and fallen asleep across most of the length of the couch he shared with Regina, pressing her into the side with his feet against her legs where they were tucked beneath her.

“So much for that,” Regina called softly over to Emma, who was lounged comfortably in the recliner across the room, and she gestured towards Henry, his snores beginning to drown out the actual sounds of the film.

“I’ll take him upstairs,” Emma smiled fondly, and she kicked the raised foot of the chair back into position. She crossed the room, avoiding the sharp edge of the coffee table that somehow always managed to scrape her knee, and nudged him awake. “Come on kid, let’s go to bed.”

“You have to read the Night Before Christmas,” he reminded her sleepily, to which Emma gave a grand eye roll over his head to an amused Regina.

“I didn’t forget,” Emma assured him, and with a nod and a giant, wide yawn, he threw himself into a half-hearted, tired hug with Regina before standing up and casting a furrowed look of concern at the still-slumbering figure spread across the other couch.

“Leila…”

“Doesn’t need a bedtime story,” Emma finished for him gently, her hand rubbing his shoulder softly as she led him from the room and in the direction of his own bed. Regina’s heart clenched at the sounds of the argument as it faded away.

“Yes, she does, it’s her first one with us!”

“Let her sleep, Henry, come on.”

And Regina couldn’t help the sudden, burning ache as she remembered every Christmas Eve she hadn’t sat up with her daughter, reading traditional bedtime stories and spinning elaborate tales of Santa Claus. Almost as though she somehow felt this, Leila stirred for the first time in a few hours, stretching and yawning and clearing her throat, and blinked in confusion at the changed, darkened room.

“Welcome back. How’s the hangover?” Regina teased her, moving from her own place and onto the couch with Leila as she scrambled into a seated position, her hands combing carefully through her hair to tie it into a neat bun at the crown of her head.

“Is this what that feels like?” Leila joked in return, Regina laughed, and they fell into a comfortable silence as Leila focused in on the television screen. “Oh my god, you watched _Elf_ without me?”

Regina shrugged, nonplussed, and didn’t even take her eyes away from the screen. “You built a snowman without me.”

“Fair enough.” Leila could have chosen to continue to be difficult, but she was much more satisfied by the quiet, calm peace she found by simply sitting beside her mother, laughing at the antics of Buddy the Elf. It was nearly the last scene of the movie when it really registered to her that they were still quite alone, and a sudden idea struck her in a single, nervous, throbbing heartbeat.

“Hey, Regina?”

“Hmm?” She hummed, a non-response, and Leila took a deep breath.

“I have a Christmas present for you.”

Regina, who admittedly hadn’t been paying her full attention, turned immediately, her eyes splaying wide in surprise. “You do?”

“Yeah,” Leila confirmed, and at Regina’s continued, stunned silence, she smiled anxiously. “Can I give it to you now?”

“Of course,” Regina nodded, a little disbelieving, and while Leila sprung up and began to search under the tree for her gift, Regina cleared her throat. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know,” Leila shrugged, finally locating the parcel, and she cradled it to her chest as she fell onto the couch beside her mother once more, both turned into to face one another with matching, cautious, small smiles. “But I wanted to.”

She handed over the brown paper package, tied neatly with a bow in the middle with a simple string, and Regina cradled it in her lap, her fingers running gently across the hand-written tag.

_To: Mom_

_Love: Leila_

And Regina knew somehow, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that whatever was inside that package was about to destroy her in every beautiful and awful way possible.

“Open it,” Leila coaxed gently, her voice barely more than a whisper, and Regina nodded, though her hands shook as they removed the paper. It fell away, leaving behind one of those thick, glossy books with a somewhat soft cover, and this one was covered with stencilled, stylistic Winnie the Pooh characters, Leila’s full name scrawled across the front in her own writing.

“What is this?” Regina murmured, but she _knew_ , and tears threatened at the corners of her eyes before the girl could even answer.

“I’ve told you I was in foster care my whole life, but that’s not... _exactly_ true,” Leila winced, nervous to reveal her lie, but Regina didn’t seem to care. She ran one finger along the spine of the book; Regina hadn’t even turned the cover yet, so engrossed she was in whatever she was about to say. “I did have a family, once, until I was three. They kept me until I needed my last big surgery, and they couldn’t afford it, so they sent me back.”

Regina’s heart ached so violently at that that she felt it was going to make her sick. But Leila continued on, wanting to get the words out before she lost her nerve.

“And my foster mom, well, she...she was pretty good about taking pictures.”

She reached out to open the book for Regina, as it seemed she was never going to do so herself, and a gut-wrenching gasp fell from the woman’s mouth at the large, bright photo of an infant -- _her_ infant -- in a tiny pink hat, swaddled in a tiny pastel blanket in a hospital bassinet. It was an image she hadn’t seen beyond the dustiest corner of her mind in years, no matter how desperately she’d tried to hold onto it. She looked up then, as tears streamed helplessly down her cheeks, to find that Leila was crying too.

“There are more,” she prompted, and Regina sniffled, nodded, and turned the first page. She thought surely she couldn’t have been more affected than by the first one, but each photo was somehow both better and worse than the last.

The first several were more of Leila as an infant, every significant moment captured perfectly. She marveled at every one, her fingers tracing them reverently as she was allowed to see her baby for the first time, even if it had to be in print. She had only been able to wonder, all these years, what she might look like, how she might have grown. But there she was: six pounds, eleven ounces, twenty one inches of perfect.

She saw her surrounded by stuffed animals in her crib, sleeping soundly. In a kitchen sink, laughing at the camera and covered in suds as she was given a bath. On a blanket in an elf onesie beneath a twinkling Christmas tree, much like the one near them in that moment.

And then she grew, a precocious toddler, the tiniest blonde ringlets beginning to cover her previously smooth, bald head. She played on a beach, her eyes ( _Regina’s eyes_ ) full of laughter, extending a handful of rocks towards the camera’s eye. There was one of her sprawled across the back of a serene, patient golden retriever that Regina could only assume had belonged to the family while Leila was with them. A cupboard, emptied of its pots and pans, housing a baby Leila instead, a large pot lid encapsulating the entirety of her little head. And then a little Leila who had to be close to three years old, in nothing but a tiny Red Sox jersey in a garden, holding a baseball in each hand and grinning widely. There were so many to absorb at once, as she turned page after page, and she noticed that each photo had a little caption next to it; Regina realized with a twinge of confusion that they were in Leila’s own handwriting as well.

“Did you...make this yourself?” Regina asked suddenly, her voice wavering, and she looked up for the first time to meet Leila’s own watery gaze.

“I did,” she nodded, “I’ve always had the pictures, but they were just in a plastic bag at the bottom of a box I carry with me, they never...had a home. So I thought maybe they belonged with you.”

“Thank you,” Regina choked over the words, though they were the only ones she could bring herself to say. “I don’t...I could never…”

“I know,” Leila smiled sadly, and she reached out to close the book gently in Regina’s lap; they were done with it for the moment. “Me too.”

Quite suddenly, she found herself engulfed in the tightest hug she’d ever received from her mother; perhaps from _anyone_. She allowed it to carry on for longer than a minute for the first time, relishing the way her heart soared and ached simultaneously. Regina openly cried over her shoulder, one hand rubbing softly up and down her back, until Leila couldn’t stand it any longer. She gently extracted herself from the embrace, looking down and away kindly while Regina collected herself, though she did have quite a few tears to brush away from her own cheeks.

“You looked...happy,” Regina commented, a hint of sadness behind her eyes despite the way she hid it from her voice.

“I probably was,” Leila shrugged, “but I’ve never been happier than I have been here, with you. Maybe that’s what happiness is anyway. Maybe it’s having a family that loves you, and getting to keep them.”

Regina absorbed this thoughtfully, her lips pursed, and after a long pause, she fixed Leila with a significant look. “You might be right. Since my father died, I haven’t had much of that myself.”

Leila bobbed her head slowly in agreement, not quite knowing what to say, but not quite feeling like she needed to anyway. A sudden thought struck her, and she knew the question that she needed answered. “So can I?”

“Can you what?” Regina prompted, confused.

“Keep you,” Leila answered, as though it were obvious, and Regina’s lips split into a wide, happy grin.

“Always,” she affirmed, and Leila leaned in on her own for another long, warm hug.

Regina, still shaken up by a deluge of emotions she hadn’t expected to feel, took a deep, cleansing breath and gestured vaguely in the direction of the tree. “If you go find your smallest gift, you can open that one tonight. Just don’t tell Henry.”

“Deal,” Leila laughed, and before long she produced a tiny, square box wrapped in the same shiny, gold paper that encased all of her presents from Regina (Henry’s were wrapped in bright green, Emma’s in a brilliant red.) “This one?”

“Yes,” Regina confirmed, and as she tucked her legs beneath her to settle more comfortably, Leila rejoined her on the couch, turning the box over and over in her hands. “Open it.”

She did, tearing the wrapping away with much less precision than Regina had done, and revealed a plain, cardboard box. Upon opening it further, she gasped as one shiny, pearlescent ornament rolled into her lap. “Oh!”

“I know you didn’t exactly...enjoy finding the other ones,” Regina began delicately, turning the bulb over to reveal its picture, painted brightly across the surface.  “But I--I’ve done it every year and I just found myself doing it again and--”

“I love it,” Leila breathed, her eyes drinking in the image fondly as she turned the bulb ornament over in her palm. “Are these from…”

“ _Starry Night_ ,” Regina answered before she could even finish the question. “I don’t know why, it just...came out.”

“It’s beautiful.” Leila smiled, warm and bright, and she placed it on a middle-lying branch at the front of the tree, admiring the way it glowed by the fire’s light combined with the string lights surrounding it. “Thank you.”

Although she tried, she couldn’t suppress the yawn that escaped her. Regina leaned forward and gently placed the baby book on the coffee table, tilting her head to accommodate the fond look that she sent Leila’s way. “Would you like to go to bed?”

“Maybe.” Leila nodded, another wide yawn dragging her into a full-bodied stretch. She crossed over to where Regina still sat and placed a quick, soft kiss on the top of her mother’s head. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

Regina closed her eyes, a pleased, soft smile blossoming in response. “Merry Christmas, my little love.”

  



	21. Chapter 21

 

In the thirty-two years that this had been her house, in some form or another, Regina had never felt quite so at home.

It wasn’t just the soft, instrumental music, the spiced smells, the twinkling lights, or any other Christmas cliché in which she had found herself indulging so heavily this year, though that certainly increased the feeling. They'd had a whirlwind of a day, full of emotions and _family_ and love and each other. Of building traditions and laughing. It was beautiful. It was perfect. This life, _their_ life was perfect.

It was really them, the four of them, for the first time.

A long while had passed between Leila going upstairs to bed and Emma venturing down after tucking Henry in. Regina had been able to do little more than flip through Leila’s baby book, poring over the pages as though it might burn the images into her memory, like they’d existed there all along.

There was most of a bottle of dark, delicious red wine leftover from dinner, and Regina poured herself a glass from the crystal decanter. It had been a _day_ , and while it had felt warm and welcome and _whole_ , the emotional toll it had taken on her was significant. For someone who had become so accustomed to solitude, to be suddenly so surrounded by affection and family ties was more than a little overwhelming. And yet still, she thought as the first sip coated her tongue, inducing a shiver of pleasure, through it all, there was Emma.

And where _was_ Emma? She had long since gone upstairs to put Henry to bed, and Regina felt silly for the fact that somehow, still, she _missed_ her. Emma had been beside her for most of the day, but there was still a part of Regina that ached for her company within her solitude. And that, perhaps, had been the biggest change of all when Emma had returned to her life.

She was halfway into her second glass of wine, scrolling casually through the holiday movie options to enjoy one last film alone when Emma finally appeared in the doorway, looking harrowed but otherwise smiling.

“What’s wrong?” Regina asked immediately, Emma striding across the room to join her, and lifted the corner of her blanket to allow Emma underneath it with her. Emma collapsed onto the couch with a huff, her eyes closed, but with a small smile still prevalent through it all.

“Nothing’s wrong, it can just be...exhausting to be Henry’s mom at Christmas,” she explained, and Regina laughed, a sound so careless and happy it might have rivaled Emma’s favorite song for the way it made her feel.

“Because you had to build a snowman?” Regina teased her, false pity coloring her tone, and Emma cracked one eye open to glare at Regina from the side.

“Because it’s breakfast and cartoons and carols and gingerbread cookies and grandparents and snowball fights and _eat your dinner or no hot chocolate after_ and presents and then before you know it I have to read ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas’ three times before he’ll go to sleep. Next year we're just going to let him go into a sugar coma.”

Regina warmed all over at the thought that she would _be_ there for the next year, and perhaps every year following, and she poured Emma her own glass of wine, smoothly handing it over to her so that she might not be the only one a little flushed and light-headed. “You could always just swap his cocoa for eggnog. Seems to work when your father does it with Leila.”

Emma winced, guilty, and shrugged away from Regina, her glass cradled against her chest as she smiled at her, cautious and with apology. “You noticed that, huh?”

“Emma, she passed out in the middle of the gift exchange on her stomach like a homicide victim.”

Emma grinned and took a large gulp from her glass, humming lightly to herself, pleased at the taste. “This is good. It makes me want candy.”

“You’re a child,” Regina scolded, though still amused as Emma shuffled forward to sift through a bowl of various candies that Mary-Margaret had left on the coffee table.

Emma ignored her beyond a spared glance with laughter in her eyes and remained diligent in her pursuit. Several minutes passed in comfortable silence before Regina, who had never had a child in the house for Christmas, suddenly bolted upright, a hint of panic in her voice. “What about _Santa Claus?_ ”

“What about him?” Emma replied, distracted, as she worried more about unwrapping a candy cane than listening to Regina.

“Don’t we need to...for Henry?” Regina trailed off. She was confused by Emma’s utter lack of care for the issue at hand.

“Oh, Henry stopped believing in Santa like five years ago,” Emma shrugged; she was finally victorious over the plastic packaging and stuck the end of the peppermint in her mouth, wrapping her tongue around it in a way that Regina had to actively avoid watching if she intended to pay attention to whatever it was she was about to say. “I don’t even think about it anymore, to be honest.”

“Henry.” Regina reiterated, her voice flat and toneless with disbelief. “The child who believes in magic like it’s his job?”

“Yeah, but he believes in ' _historical magic_ ,’” Emma clarified slowly, her fingers forming quotations in the air, the candy hanging limply from her mouth until she grabbed it once more, continuing her explanation. “You know, knights and wizards and fairies and shit like that. Magic with _logic_. When he was five, he asked me how Santa could possibly visit every kid in the world in one night, and when my answer wasn’t good enough, he got pissed and told me the whole thing was fake and he didn’t like being lied to.”

“That’s...so Henry,” Regina replied, smiling softly and sighing in relief. She stretched her legs across Emma’s lap, and with the crackling of the fire, the wine swirling around in her stomach and clouding her mind, she allowed her eyes to close, just briefly, and relaxed. She replayed the day’s event behind her eyes like a movie reel, landing finally on Leila and the baby book and a baby in an elf outfit beneath a tree and--

“Look at this,” Regina asked, jolting upright and startling Emma, suddenly reverent and serious. She leaned forward to retrieve the book from the adjacent coffee table. Emma sat a little taller, her attention piqued. She accepted the book as it was placed in her lap, her eyes scanning over the name on the front just as Regina’s had. She looked up then, confused, and Regina prompted her to open it with nothing more than a nod and a smile.

As Emma turned the cover and saw the first page, she couldn’t help the gasp of surprise that escaped her upon sight of the soft, sweet infant photo. “This is her?”

“That’s Leila,” Regina confirmed, and though she’d flipped through the pages three times in the space between Leila going upstairs and Emma coming down, she found she still couldn’t look at it enough.

“She was so tiny,” Emma observed, drinking in every detail and handwritten note as she encountered each one. “It’s hard to imagine her so small, you know? Without all the opinions.”

“Oh, I’m sure she had them, even then,” Regina teased while pointing out a photo that had become a particular favorite of hers: a six-month-old Leila lying on her tummy, all limbs splayed out as though she were trying to fly.

“Probably,” Emma agreed with a grin. She looked at each photo in turn, occasionally giving comment on one to Regina aloud, but mostly just feeling the overwhelming awe that was coursing through her. This kid she now loved -- _her_ kid -- in a way she’d never seen her before. Her body ached in a very specific, sad sort of way; Regina had missed out on so much. _They_ had missed out on so much. And so had Leila. “She just...she feels like ours, you know?”

“I know,” Reging agreed, and the way Emma’s eyes burned into her own at the admission stole the breath from her chest.

“She looks so much like Henry here, doesn’t she? That’s crazy,” Emma changed subject when she observed the girl as a toddler, the baseball photo in the Red Sox jersey. “In fact, I think I have one of him just like this.”

" _Everyone_ has a baby photo in a Sox jersey,” Regina reminded her fairly, and Emma grinned her acknowledgement.

“This kinda...well, Leila beat me to it, but…” Emma began tentatively, her nervous lip held between her teeth. She got up from the couch quite suddenly, startling Regina as she dashed from the room without an explanation.

“Emma Swan!” She called out indignantly, albeit quietly, over her shoulder. She was not fond of being left in the lurch. Before she could really protest, however, Emma had returned, her eyes shining and hopeful and there was a small, rectangular wrapped package pressed tightly to her stomach.

“I have something for you,” she said, and Regina immediately began to shake her head in protest.

“If whatever you’re holding is going to make me cry, the answer is no,” Regina insisted, folding her arms over her chest as though to keep herself safe from the emotional onslaught she assumed was heading her way.

“It’s not bad,” Emma protested with a pout, and she crossed the room to rejoin her, sitting even closer this time. “You’ll like it.”

“I liked _this_ , and I still ended up in tears,” Regina sniffed, her nose turned up in displeasure. “No more.”

“Just open it.” Emma pled, and though Regina narrowed her eyes in suspicion and snatched the gift from her a little too harshly, her eyes softened by the second as she gently tore the paper away, revealing a simple, plain black picture frame containing a single black-and-white photo.

“Oh,” she exclaimed in surprise, her fingertips flying up to cover her mouth as it dropped open, aghast. “This is…”

“You and Henry,” Emma confirmed. She swallowed hard, unsure how exactly to proceed, but it seemed Regina needed her to. “When he was a baby.”

Regina couldn’t find words as she took in everything about the picture, both familiar and strange all at once. It was her, but nearly a decade younger. She stood before the stove in the kitchen of the home she had shared with Emma (and Ruby, and Tinkerbell) in Boston. It was taken from the side, and she seemed quite unaware of the camera’s presence, focused as she was on her task of somehow cooking while cradling a tiny Henry in the crook of her arm.

“I don’t...remember this,” she finally admitted with frustration after absorbing every detail possible to try to place the event, but everything felt surreal to her in retrospect; that this boy who had clambered into her home and heart could be the same baby she’d held close so long ago.

“I found it on an old hard drive when I was looking for some files while I’ve been working on the bar and I thought you should have it,” Emma explained. She cleared her throat, inching closer to lean over the frame along with Regina, smiling softly at its contents. “We were in the middle of finals and he wouldn’t stop crying. Ever. I thought I was going to lose my mind. Or like...drown him. Or myself. I was fucking terrified and _so_ exhausted.”

Regina chuckled, though it wasn’t funny at all. She had felt the same crippling depression, and had found it difficult not to offer that information when Emma had leaned so heavily on her after Henry’s birth. It had been torture, the kind she loved to put herself through each and every day.

“So you came home late one night, after a study group or something. It would’ve been your last finals week ever; this was senior year,” she continued, one finger tracing the outline of Henry’s infant face beneath the glass. “And you came home and came straight upstairs and --”

“Found you in the rocking chair in my room,” Regina finished for her, the memory rushing to her all at once and with striking clarity. “Because it had to be in _my_ room because he wouldn’t sleep for anyone else.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you--any of you,” Emma admitted; she had always said so. Graham was a wonderful father and co-parent, even if he was so far away. He and Henry shared a bond that was deep and loving and pure, but he had never been her _partner_ , not in that way. Henry, from the moment of his birth, had been surrounded by Emma’s tribe of fierce, protective women. At one point, that had included Regina.

Because he _had_ cried, non-stop, for the majority of the first year of his life. Emma somehow managed to finish all of her coursework, but by the skin of her teeth, and only because of the way her housemates had immediately begun an unspoken, nonverbal game of tag with the baby. Even Regina and Ruby had put aside their differences for a few months, trading off responsibilities in a sort of square to make sure he was taken care of.

On this night Emma had documented, Regina remembered, she had wanted nothing more than a shower, a bowl of pasta, and to unscramble her brain so that she could sleep well before taking her last undergraduate exam ever. But the moment she’d opened the door, the piercing tone of Henry’s screaming assaulted her and drew her instantly up the stairs and into her own bedroom where she had found Emma, furiously rocking the wailing baby, her head tilted back and body wracked with her own sobs, begging him to stop crying. It had made Regina feel as though she were splitting in two; half of her ached to soothe Henry, and the other half longed to hold Emma.

But only one of those had been appropriate between them at the time, so she had hastened into the darkened room, scooping the baby from Emma’s arms and into her own. She cooed and bounced in place and soothed him, to no avail. " _He hasn't stopped all night."_ Emma had whispered, to which Regina had nodded, told her to lie down on her bed and get some rest. Emma had lifted her body from the rocker slowly, cautiously, as if any sudden movement would make the crying worse. She'd stopped Regina as she tried to leave the room, placed a firm hand on the crook of her elbow, and when Regina turned into it, she had leaned over the baby to kiss her. It was quick and gentle, almost absent-minded. Like it was as easy as breathing; like something they always did.

But it definitely was _not_  something they always did; it was occasional, and alcohol-fueled, and certainly never tender and short. And it had startled Regina; the domesticity of it all. It suffocated her, even, and as she tended to do when she was under duress, she smiled thinly, Henry tucked gently into her arm, and made her way downstairs to cook. She'd found that he quite liked the motion of stirring; he liked the swaying she did to the rhythmic sounds of Miles Davis and the soft crooning of Billie Holiday as she prepared whatever concoction for herself that came to mind in the moment. It had become a routine for them, and Regina soaked up every moment of it. These moments were precious, precious ones she’d missed with her own baby, precious ones of him looking up at her like she was his whole world.

That particular evening, the second she’d trodden downstairs and set him down in his bassinet next to her on the countertop, he had instantly settled, his wailing fading gradually into soft whimpers and then into nothingness altogether. She spoke to him quietly about her day, going over her notes out loud in order to organize them. She turned on the music they always enjoyed together, the soft hum surrounding them as she got everything she needed out of the refrigerator and pantry. Though he watched her with fascinated stares, he had eventually begun to fuss once more, almost as if recognizing that she was starting without him.

“ _I know, I know, little prince. Just a moment longer,”_ she’d cooed at him and he’d smiled and thrust his little fists in the air, waiting to be picked up.

They’d been cooking and dancing for quite a while when an exhausted Emma ventured into the kitchen, flabbergasted as she spied the two of them looking so _happy_ together. She had perhaps never even _seen_ Regina so happy, or Henry as quiet and content as he was when she swayed with him in her arms. They felt right. They _fit._ And it wasn’t the first time that Emma had fought off a pang of jealousy over his fondness of her...roommate? Her... _Regina_ , who could never really be _hers_ like she had sometimes longed for her to be, because she deserved so much better than a single mother who could barely keep it together. Regina deserved a _proper_ family, with a proper spouse and a child all her own. But this _feeling..._ this pang in her chest, it seemed that it would never go away.

Regina had turned just so, with that half smile she always gave Emma that made her stomach drop in the most confusing way. She had entered the room quietly, but a soft _shhhh_ still escaped Regina’s lips, and she nodded down at the sleeping infant as Emma took a seat at the table on the other side of the room. She’d resumed her task in front of the stove and Emma watched the way her hips swayed and the motion of her body flowed effortlessly. And  in that moment, that exact one; her sleeping baby wrapped up in Regina’s arms, some delicious meal coming together as if by magic, Emma thought, for the first time, that she might be falling in love with Regina Mills.

She had propelled herself up and across the room towards them before she’d even noticed what she was doing, lifting her phone’s camera to freeze the moment in time. Regina, her long, dark braid pulled over one shoulder, a wooden spoon held in one hand and pressed softly against her lips, looking down into Henry’s face with the most gentle smile Emma had ever seen. It was an image she had felt she needed to hold onto forever.

They’d spent the next two weeks falling into an effortless rhythm. Emma would join Regina at every possible moment. She’d touch in her ways she didn’t understand, she even started sleeping next to her under the guise of being nearer to Henry, who would only sleep near Regina. She’d followed Regina around like a lovesick puppy, and while the behavior had clearly confused Regina, it also elated her, secretly, and she allowed herself to revel in it while it lasted.

But it hadn’t lasted for long at all; on the very same night Emma had taken that photo, Regina had decided that it was time for her to go.

Emma sighed deeply, and her head fell onto Regina’s shoulder heavily as they both continued to stare at the photo as though they couldn’t bear to look away. “You left not long after that picture was taken.”

“I know,” Regina gulped, allowing her head to rest against Emma’s. Her voice shook on the exhale, though she seemed determined not to sound affected. “It was the second hardest thing I’d ever done.”

“I was so in love with you then,” Emma confessed suddenly, her heart racing with adrenaline as she admitted it aloud, spurred on and reminded by the memory. “Did you know that?”

“You _what_?” Regina blurted in disbelief, scrambling out of the embrace as though she’d been burned.

“I was in love with you.” Emma repeated, and while she allowed Regina the space she’d taken, she took both of her hands within her own, squeezing lightly. “That night, that picture? That was what made me realize it. The way you were with him, how effortless loving him was for you. How perfectly _natural_ being a mother came to you. I realized that it wasn’t jealousy I was feeling, it was love. I didn’t want to _be_ you - I wanted to be _with_ you, doing it alongside you.”

“Emma, that’s absolutely absurd!” Regina argued, and her eyes fluttered closed; she couldn’t even look at her, with every sense overwhelmed by this new information. “Don’t you remember what happened in the weeks following that photograph?”

“Things were perfect. _We_ , the three of us, were perfect. That’s what I remember. And then one night you were just _gone_ like none of it had mattered. Like _we_ didn’t.”

“I left because I knew that you’d never choose me. Not with Ruby, and...” Regina shook her head, biting her tongue against the next, heated words that threatened to spill out. It didn’t help to bring up the past, not like that. It didn’t matter, after all. She continued, more slowly, more thoughtfully. “It doesn’t matter. I couldn’t be as in love with you as I’d always been, I couldn’t love Henry any more than I already did...and lose you both to someone else _again_. I’d never have survived it.”

Emma didn’t want to hear this, Regina could see the pleading in her eyes to explain a choice she would never have made unless she felt her very hope and sanity were at stake. Her very heart. “It wasn’t fair to Leila for me to be Henry’s pseudo-mother, and it wasn’t fair to me to be your pseudo-lover. I’d _barely_ survived losing Leila, and I knew if I left before _he_ could fall in love with me too, maybe we’d both survive.”

“I’d have chosen you, you know, if you’d asked me to,” Emma stated, and it was clear to Regina that she truly believed what she was saying. But it was easy, she thought, to reach back into their memories and feel love attached to a certain time they’d had together, when their life was so full of love now. They had _needed_ to live these very separate lives in order to make things line up perfectly the way they had when they’d been brought together again after so many years.

“That’s the point, Emma. I’d never ask you to. I shouldn’t have had to,” Regina insisted. “The timing was all wrong, we’d never have worked like that. We’d never have worked without _Leila_. She found me because she needed _us_.”

Emma couldn’t quite argue with that, and so with a sad smile, she pressed a kiss to each of Regina’s hands in turn. “You spent so much time running away, you never looked back to see us waiting for you to come home. To find us again.”

“Emma, I...”

After finally admitting that she'd been in love with her once, that Regina's love hadn't been unrequited, that they could have had a life together, Emma felt a weight lifted from her and she exhaled a heavy breath. She caught Regina's eyes as they silently filled with tears, a lifetime of realizations hitting her all at once and suddenly it was as if she'd never seen Regina before, not really. And especially not like this; raw, uninhibited--absolutely stunning.

She'd noticed earlier in the day, of course, how beautiful Regina looked, but nothing in this moment could have prepared her for how _much_ she felt it. The twinkling lights of the tree, the warm glow of the dimming fireplace after hours spent wrapped around each other, the soft pink hue of her cheeks after just _one more_ _glass_ of wine to prolong their time together. The culmination of it all was deliciously overwhelming. And suddenly nothing else made sense but to--

“Ask me now.” Emma urged her quietly, interrupting her and not quite caring if it was impolite. She had been struck by a sudden idea, and she knew she _had_ to follow through.

“Ask you?” Regina scoffed, taking her hands away from Emma’s and folding them primly in her lap. "Emma, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Ask me to choose you.”

“I’m not going to do that. It’s a moot point!” Regina argued, and she let out a nervous, tentative laugh in an attempt to avoid the intense look Emma was giving her, not quite sure why Emma was pushing the issue.

Emma crawled closer to her, over her, their bodies aligning perfectly as they always did, and pushed her back deeper into the arm of the couch, encouraging Regina to follow her lead. “ _Beg_ me to.”

“Excuse me?” Regina felt suddenly quite overcome, and though it was what Emma asked her for aloud, she noted the pleading tone in the other woman’s eyes as she hovered above her, waiting. Wanting.

“Regina, I want you to beg me.”

Oh.

“ _Oh,”_ Regina breathed out, her eyes closing as the gentle press of Emma’s lips against the side of her neck prompted her head to fall back. It was as though this simple action flipped a switch in Regina’s very _being_. Emma was asking her for things that should have been all too easy to offer. Emma wanted Regina to ask her, out loud, for what she’d already done. She wanted Regina to ask Emma to choose her, to want her, to be with her. These were things she had wanted desperately long before she’d been able to ask for them, long before she’d ever actually had them.

But she _did_ have them now, and Emma knew it as well as she did. They belonged together, and there was nothing that could stand in the way of it now. And so, with that knowledge, Regina opened her eyes and fixed Emma with a look that she knew, instantly, would both thrill and terrify her. There were weapons in her arsenal that she had been holding close until now, and there Emma was, pressing Regina’s body firmly into the cushions beneath them, very much asking for Regina to unleash them.

Begging, indeed.

“I don’t think that’s what you want me to beg you for right now,” Regina murmured, low and slow, and Emma kissed her then, wildly and desperately and without abandon.  

Emma kissed her like she _knew_ her, and Regina supposed that, somehow, she always had. It was soft and calming, yet fierce and claiming all at once. She kissed her with the weight of a thousand lifetimes on her shoulders, like those lifetimes suddenly made _perfect_ sense. They’d waited what _felt_ like lifetimes for this moment, where they could simply _be_. Together. In every sense of the word.

Emma was suddenly everywhere, moving above her, the desire on her face illuminated by dim firelight; Regina had never seen her so desperate. The pleading in her eyes, the determination, the _passion_ . It was almost too overwhelming to watch as Emma pressed her warm lips over every inch of Regina’s skin that she could uncover, slowly rediscovering it, laughing into her mouth in time with the end of each kiss. Her fingertips trailed from Emma’s shoulders down her back, and then she paused, not with hesitation, though the sudden change in her demeanor brought Emma’s actions to an abrupt halt. The other woman groaned, at the lack of contact, the lack of progression, the lack of _anything_.

" _Regina_ ,” she whined, her hips stilling where they’d been rocking in time with Regina’s own with every increasingly frantic, furious moment. 

She tilted her head to the side, glancing wildly at their surroundings. “Hmm. Where is your phone?”

“Huh?”

“Where are the kids?”

“In bed, asleep. Regina - what are you...?”

“What ever will I do without some sort of interruption?” She mused under her breath, almost to herself, teasing and soft, and she made motions to get up, to move Emma off of her body. The panic that flashed in Emma’s eyes made Regina chuckle to herself, a low, gravelly rumble in tune with her mood. “I think you’ll find, Emma Swan, that I do not _beg_ for anything, or anyone. When I want something, I take it for myself. Or I give it, when I am asked. So, is there anything _you’d_ like to ask _me_?”

Emma gasped, a million things coming to mind of things she could _beg_ her to do that would enhance the mood and probably make Regina's voice drop three octaves lower, but the look on Regina's face, one of such raw and unadulterated desire, took her breath away.

"I don’t..." Emma replied, her tongue swiping out across her bottom lip once as her brow furrowed in deep thought. She wasn’t sure exactly what question Regina wanted from her, but she was determined not to ask the wrong one.

“Is there perhaps somewhere you’d like me to... _take_ you?” Regina suggested, casual, almost flippant, though Emma knew her heart had to be racing as wildly as her own.

 _Oh_. She knew.

“Take me to bed,” Emma demanded readily, and Regina, who had stood regally to tower over her as she waited for an answer, smiled in that devilish way she did when she had gotten something she wanted. “ _Now_.”

 _Finally_.

“Gladly,” Regina purred, and she extended a hand gently to assist Emma up and off the couch, dragging her firmly across the first floor and upstairs to her bedroom, taking care to push her against every surface she possibly could with furtive, quiet, fiery kisses along the way.

 

\--------

 

It was as though every moment they’d ever stolen previously somehow magnified this one to a level quite outside their control. By the time Regina had managed to tumble them over the threshold of her bedroom door, Emma felt it was some sort of miracle they’d made it there as quietly as they had.

The number of times she’d imagined Regina shoving her roughly down onto her bed couldn’t possibly compare to the feeling of it actually happening, her back meeting the mattress and bouncing back gently as Regina climbed on top of her, voracious and stealthy. And though Regina hadn’t so much as lifted a finger to undress her yet, Emma found herself feeling quite as vulnerable as though she were already naked.

And then she _did_ ; Regina started first by divesting Emma of her shirt and then her own joined it in a pile on the floor beside the bed and _you won’t leave your clothes on my floor_ had suddenly become _I want to see your clothes on my floor_ and she’d barely wrapped her head around the irony before it was her pants joining the rest and warm hands gliding over her bare legs and _oh, god,_ and--

Emma's heart felt so immeasurably full it could burst, and Regina straddled her hips, hands splayed over Emma’s abdomen and everything was perfect and all she could think of was _more_ ; of Regina, of every single touch, of her _mouth,_ of her deft, calculated touches and lingering, purposeful caresses. She groaned, more loudly than she'd anticipated, and she was met with a gasp of satisfaction, Regina’s eyes closing as she inhaled deeply, satisfied by the sensation of finally having Emma Swan _exactly_ where she wanted her without interruption, without barriers, without anything keeping them from being exactly as they always should have been. Together.

"Please," Emma pled, already weak as she squirmed beneath her, held down firmly by Regina’s palms against her and using her own to grasp for every inch of skin she could because Regina was moving and tracing the lines of every single one of the blonde's curves with her fingertips as though she had all the time in the world, as though Emma’s body wasn’t a bomb within seconds of detonation with Regina’s fingers tangled in the wires. Emma could feel her _everywhere_ and it was too much and yet not enough all at once.

It was one of those moments when everything speeds up and slows down and as Regina’s hands ventured up and down her body, she was just _so_ ready for it to end so she could make Regina feel everything she was feeling, and yet she also needed it to never stop and _oh, god_ her lips and her teeth and _this can never end._ _  
_

And then her _tongue_.

 _Oh god_ , Emma thought as she watched the tip of the Regina’s tongue ghost over her skin, drag slowly down her body and it was...life changing. She quickly reached down to tangle her fingers in Regina's hair, searching desperately for some sort of anchor. Emma had never felt so _observed_ before, _adored_ , and it was beautiful in its simplicity. Like they were getting to know one another all over again.

And her heart stopped, and then began to beat heavily against her chest because it was new but it was also so familiar because Regina _loved_ her and Emma _knew_ that because she’d changed her entire life to be with her and brought her into it so earnestly; it was the most beautiful gift anyone could ever receive. This _family_ she'd built, the family into which she had welcomed Emma without abandon.

Regina smiled at her again, in that _way_ that she did where Emma knew it was only for her. Where her eyes glistened and the color of them changed just _so_ because she was feeling -so much- for her in that moment it reflected back to her.

And she was beautiful. _Gorgeous_. And she was finally, after all those years, _happy_ , and Emma was the one who made her that way. Love was powerful like that. And she'd never known _truly_ until this very moment. Love was _magic_ and _power_ and _grace_ because now Regina was moving on top of her, attempting to achieve a sense of release for herself and Emma couldn't breathe, her hands still grasping for any skin she could feel beneath her own, ending up alternating between gripping tightly to her bicep or desperately onto Regina's hips as they rocked into her own.

Regina exhaled hotly against her neck, whispering reverent words of praise and _this must be a dream_. Because how could someone like her love someone like Emma, and how could it have fallen into place the way it did?

 _Magically_.

Regina finally became desperate and impatient and pressed her thigh firmly into Emma; Emma’s body naturally leaned into the pressure with a deep groan of approval, matching Regina's because she could finally _feel_ how wet she had become.

Too fast. _This cannot be over so quickly_. Emma paused.

She smirked at Regina's frustration. She didn't want this to be about giving in to what felt like a lifetime of wanting. She wanted this to be about being ready to _build_ that lifetime together. She wanted a lifetime of making love to this incredible woman, wanted a lifetime of _loving_ her.

Regina could sense the adoration with which Emma watched her, yet was somehow still perplexed as to why they couldn't just _fuck_ after waiting for it for so long. They had straddled the line between love and hatred for useless, wasted years, underlined by a longing on Regina’s part so dull and forgotten that she could do nothing but allow it to come roaring back in full force with every push and pull of Emma’s body against hers. But she didn't want to lose this, so she kissed Emma, love washing over her like a raging storm, and kissed her and kissed her until she was almost desperate for more.

And after all, Regina _did_ beg, then; begged to be touched, begged Emma to _feel_ her, to be with her in the moment they'd been waiting to share for what felt like an eternity. Emma pressed into her and kissed her and gasped when she felt for herself how wet Regina was becoming; how wet she knew herself to be, too. How _delicious_ they were together. She gasped as Regina dug into her skin as she drew closer and closer to finishing _much_ too soon.

But Emma wanted more; she wanted _time_ , and so she pulled away again and chuckled at the fury that passed through those beautiful eyes. Regina was closer than Emma had realized, and she slowly rolled Regina over onto her back, pressing her into the mattress firmly beneath her own body.

Emma tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she squirmed beneath her, a sly grin slipping across her face as Regina huffed at having been _so_ close and then having her release, her power, stolen from her.

"You’d better wipe that grin off your face, Miss Swan,” Regina warned, and it made her feel even more smug. She was winning.

"Or what?" She challenged, because she was feeling brave and in control (even though she absolutely wasn't; she never was.) Regina simply smirked in response, quirked a brow knowingly, and--

 _Oh fuck,_ Emma groaned internally, rolling her eyes back as they closed against the tantalizing image before her. Regina’s hand slithered between their bodies, their eye contact never broken, and she was touching herself, slow and determined, and Emma swore her brain short circuited before realizing she could be kissing her again.  So she did just that, Regina’s tongue dipping into her mouth, and the only coherent thought in her head was that Regina was even more powerful than she ever thought possible.

"Or I'll finish without you. Have you learned nothing?" Regina kissed along her jawline and purred into her ear, humming to herself in the pleasure she was building for herself. There was nothing more exhilarating than her mouth and her words and she could say _anything_ in that moment and Emma would absolutely fall in love with her all over again.

And she did, her heart so full and close to bursting because Regina was _waiting_ for her response, but Regina knew her so she just laughed and then groaned as her fingers dipped lower into herself and she felt how wet she was, _again_ , and Emma knew certainly that they couldn't wait any longer.

And so she slowly joined her, her fingers tangling with Regina’s loosely to match her ministrations and they slid through her like a _dance_ and she gasped sharply and bit her lip hard enough to probably draw blood but she didn't care. As much as Emma ached, her body throbbing with need, she was just along for the ride because this was, she wanted this to be, about _Regina;_ she'd waited so long for this; longer than any person should have to endure.

She locked eyes with her, chest heaving and hearts pounding as she pushed Emma a little lower, their fingers almost inside of her now, and Emma looked to her for permission. She wouldn't go further unless Regina commanded it.

And then she did. With a low, drawn out groan and a firm thrust of her own fingers to guide Emma's inside of her that left Emma desperate and breathless and so overwhelmed she thought she might cry.

Emma pushed into her slowly, loving the sensation of gliding through the warmth inside this incredible woman, watching every move and expression and Regina cried out as she extracted her hand and wrapped her hands around Emma’s neck, gripping tightly to the hair at the base and pulled her closer, _closer_.

And then Emma was deep _inside_ her, and it felt like _home_ and Regina _begged_ with every ounce of energy she could muster, clinging to Emma desperately as she quaked and groaned and rocked back and forth against her, and Emma was more than happy to oblige. She shifted slightly as her thumb reached over and stroked her _just so_ so she could feel it _everywhere_ and it was too much. She was coming undone quickly and it was so fucking beautiful Emma wanted to cry and never stop because she was _hers_ and she was so in love that every ounce of her ached to crawl inside every ounce of Regina all at once because she could never be close enough. This love, as they’d made it, without hesitation, without limitation, was _true_.

“What do you want?” Emma whispered, suddenly feeling brave and earnestly wanting Regina to give her direction so that it was everything she'd ever desired. She dragged her mouth and teeth and tongue over the skin of Regina’s shoulder and neck rhythmically as she rocked beneath her, moved herself over and over Emma’s fingers desperately. Regina bit her lip, spreading her legs wider and immediately stilling Emma's wrist to hold her in the perfect position as Emma settled between them, the weight of her hips prepared to drive her hand further.

“Harder.”

She hummed, low and satisfied as Emma obliged, her back arching to meet the new rhythm.

“ _Deeper_ ,” she groaned slowly, breathless and heart racing as Emma met each request with undeterred determination. “And never,” she gasped, wrapping a leg around Emma’s hip to grant her an easier angle, “ _Ever_ ,” she cried, punctuating her request with a soft nip to the bottom lip that brushed across her own, “Stop.” 

Her back arched away from the bed as she huffed in frustration, clearly needing _more,_ so much more of Emma and of everything she was feeling, so she reached above her head to grip the headboard tightly, knuckles whitening with the effort. She used her leverage to angle her hips downward and thrust herself roughly on Emma's fingers and whatever sound of pleasure that tried to escape her died on her lips as she bit down on her bottom one, quickly finding and building just the rhythm she needed.

Emma could feel how close she was, she could feel it deep within her bones and it was unlike any sensation she'd ever felt in her life. This was something so much more than just sex. This was- transcendent - and Emma had never known two people could share an intimacy quite so intense. It was almost as if she was _inside_ Regina's mind and body - her soul - as she came closer and closer to finding release. She had never in her life felt a connection like this one, this tether that made her hands nearly vibrate where they touched any part of Regina. And then suddenly she was crying out, softly and muffled by the back of her hand that had flown to press against her mouth.

There was barely time to breathe, to come down, to _think_ before Emma saw the change in Regina’s eyes; a familiar, long-dormant fire returned to them and Emma’s head was spinning, their lips were colliding and then Regina lifted herself up and crawled on top of her again, maneuvering them to the other end of the bed such that Emma feared she was in danger of toppling over the edge head-first if not for the weight of Regina pinning her there, her hips grasped tightly beneath Regina’s hands.

And then _oh, god,_ again it was her tongue making Emma come undone, swirling over her body until Emma was shaking and overwhelmed and begging her to stop. Because she could think of nothing other than _together_ and she sat up, meeting Regina where she had sat up too, perched calmly and breathing heavily between Emma’s legs and even without speech they both knew what Emma was thinking. Slowly, deliberately, Regina maneuvered herself backwards, her head resting against the pillows she’d previously moved aside in her search for the headboard, and with an invitational smirk she coaxed Emma on top of her, reaching out to tangle their fingers together until she was close enough and perfectly aligned and _fuck, yes_ and Emma’s hands rested on either side of her head to support herself as she hovered, waiting patiently, above Regina and _yes, right there_ and Regina was finally inside her, without preamble, without warning, and Emma suppressed a desperate cry at the feeling of finally being overwhelmingly _whole._  

If Regina had thought she might be nervous when the time came to actually _be_ with Emma and do this properly and make her feel _everything_ , then she would have been wrong because Emma demanded more of Regina with each passing second, moving more furiously over her fingers and she thought fleetingly that it might have been the most confident she’d ever felt that she was doing something _right_ . And it felt so _good_ to be the one making Emma come apart, to graze her nails down Emma’s bare back and whisper every dirty little thought that crossed her mind into her ear, spurring her furiously on until she rocked faster and harder and _oh, fuck_ , Emma dragged one hand down the front of Regina’s body and then she was inside her too. Regina gasped and Emma’s lips were on her throat, bruisingly rough and _thank god for Christmas and snow and turtlenecks_ and Regina’s spare hand tangled in Emma’s hair and tugged and _thank god for those fingers_ and Emma had never been this close, this quickly and Regina had never been this close _ever_ and _thank god for this woman_ and--

They both threw their heads back as Emma felt Regina's toes curled against her and her whole body quaked and _begged_ for release and when it came- for both of them, just as Emma had wanted- one quickly after the other - the world as they knew it stopped. Their eyes filled with tears, mouths open, bodies soaring, and as brown met green, the whole world instantly made sense.  _This_ was where they were destined to be.

 

**\--------**

 

They spent the better part of an hour side by side, unapologetically _happy_ for what truly felt like the first time in their lives. Emma had torn every decorative pillow from the bed unceremoniously, yanking the comforter down and tugging Regina beneath luxuriously soft sheets alongside her. Emma made Regina laugh, that uninhibited, free, melodic one that she loved to induce, and as eleven o’clock somehow became midnight (became twelve-thirty, became two o’clock)  they _knew_ Christmas morning was going to need more coffee than hot chocolate; and that perhaps Leila would look at them both a little skeptically for how exhausted they were going to be, but neither could quite bring themselves to care or to fall asleep and miss even a second.

Regina traced Emma's side with her fingertips, slowly up and down, a methodical, adoring rhythm as they reminisced over memories passed, of times when they might _almost_ have crossed the line, _almost_ had acknowledged they could’ve been more than friends all along, but then never actually did.

There had been that one night of studying when Emma had snuck downstairs to get another bottle of cheap, questionable wine and an armful of snacks that Regina secretly loved and when she'd come back into the room, Regina was in the bathroom with the door ajar _just_ enough for it to have been on purpose. She'd quickly turned away to give her privacy, knowing it wasn't her place to watch such an intimate moment, but her eyes were drawn repeatedly over to the intoxicating expanse of her bare back, the way the lines of her body flowed and moved so effortlessly, so _softly_ as Regina began her nightly bedtime routine. She'd caught herself staring and quickly reprimanded herself, but she was definitely slightly drunk and there'd always been _something_ between them. Something unspoken, of course, but definitely something.

She glanced again at the sound of the faucet running; she couldn’t help herself, after all, and - _oh god_ her arms were _strong_ and that was undeniably sexy because Regina’s strength was so subtle and so feminine but so _beautiful_. She could see the muscles in her shoulders flex, her arms above her head deftly bringing her hair up into a messy bun and it had made Emma's stomach drop in a manner that told her immediately that she _wanted_ Regina. It was confusing and exhilarating and she found herself moving quietly closer to the door, hoping that she could just wrap her- that she could press her mouth just below where- that she could turn her and just--

“You have this way that you _move_ , Regina. One I’ve always,” she cleared her throat in an attempt to mask what had been her obvious attraction. But they were there now, naked, draped with only sheets, and they were _together_ and it no longer felt like she had to hide the things she’d once felt. This trip down memory lane was overdue, and it was sexy in and of itself. “One that’s always done so many things to me. That have made me feel--”

She had reached the door, finally, and she could see Regina now watching her come closer, the look in her eyes one of pensive curiosity. She obviously wanted to see how brave Emma would be, obviously wanted to see how far she would push, and it wasn’t the first time, while a little intoxicated, that she’d let something like this between them naturally fall into place. But it _was_ the first time Regina looked at her that way. And when she didn’t _not_ encourage her to come closer, it made her all the more tempted to play.

“Oh, I know _exactly_ how often you’ve stared at me doing just about anything. There’s a reason I wear what I do around you." Regina smirked, dragging her nails up Emma's thigh. "Your eyes have _always_ follow me, and they always darken in a way that I find _delicious._ ” Regina replied, to which Emma leaned over and captured her lips in a grinning, tantalizing kiss.

She had arrived in the doorway, stilled for just a moment, eyes locked with Regina to give her one last out; when no halt came, she pushed open the door and slid into the bathroom, never breaking eye contact until she was close enough to reach out and touch her. She inhaled deeply, her breath catching in her throat as Regina bit her lip in the mirror and Emma knew she _needed_ to bite that lip too.

“Do you remember that kiss?” Emma asked, to which Regina nodded slowly, biting her lip just as she had done that very night. “I think that was our first _real_ kiss, wasn’t it?” Regina simply _mmmed_ against her skin in response, allowing Emma to tumble further into her own memory.

Emma had, in fact, wrapped her arms around Regina’s stomach and pulled her as close as she possibly could. She’d kissed the back of her neck and when Regina had tilted her head and closed her eyes and pleaded with her in the mirror, Emma had kissed over every inch of skin across which she could possibly brush her lips. She’d never felt skin so _smooth_ before, and Regina’s breathy, enthusiastic responses to this newfound sensation had been _exhilarating_. She’d felt things stir inside of her that she’d never felt with anyone before, a crackling almost, as if every nerve in her body was screaming to climb inside of Regina’s.

There was a split second, one neither of them had really planned for, when Emma had turned her around in her arms and kissed Regina so desperately and it was so _good_ that they both pulled away and just _stared_ at each other. And then they’d laughed, perhaps a little more drunk than either of them had thought. “Was that, maybe...?” Emma had commented. “Really fantastic?” Regina had finished. “Should we-?”

And then Regina had kissed her more slowly, more tentatively, kissed her in a way that felt like waking up on Christmas morning and snow had fallen all night and the world was pristine and white and the blanket she was wrapped in was so _warm_ and _safe._ And it felt like every moment in her life had been leading up to that very one. She had pushed Emma backwards, step by step undressing her as best she could until she pushed her down onto the bed and reveled in the way her curls fell around her face and her eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them before. And then suddenly, Emma’s eyes had gone wide in panic and she’d shuffled out and away from the edge of the bed. “Regina I--we’re a little too--I don’t want you to regret--maybe we shouldn’t...”

She’d taken it all in stride, of course, waved the rejection off as nothing more than both of them being _too_ drunk for anything further to happen. “Of course, just let me--”

She’d rushed to the closet to change into something to sleep in, but Emma’s eyes had still followed her. She’d still gasped just the slightest bit at the way Regina shrugged into her secret Yale sweatshirt, and just as quickly as the moment happened, it’d passed and the light was turned off and instead of dreams, they both had lain completely silent, unable to comprehend just how _life changing_ that kiss had been.

“I was a coward,” Emma commented. “The look you gave me. God, you looked at me like--”

Regina chuckled softly. “Like I was in love with you?”

Emma paused as the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place in her mind. “ _Oh_. Yes, exactly. And that was, well, _terrifying_ because I remembered the way your skin tasted every single day after that, even when I tried to forget. Even when I tried to find _anyone_ that could have possibly tasted better than you had.”

Regina’s stomach dropped, and she gasped and watched Emma lick her lips, obviously recalling just _what_ that taste was. “But you were afraid of me? Why?”

“I was.” She gazed at Regina sorrowfully. “Because you’re _you_ and I was...a mess. If we’d given in, _everything_ might have been ruined for you.”

Regina looked at her, perplexed, and sat up to rest her weight on her elbow. “Explain.”

“You had big dreams, you were at _Harvard_ , and if we’d--I couldn’t let you choose me over everything you’d been working so hard for. I knew you might. We had _potential_ , you know? Obviously. And if you were feeling at all what I was feeling...I didn’t want you to regret this, _me_ , sixteen years down the road.”

“You’re sweet,” Regina commented in response, brushing a quick kiss across Emma’s unsure, almost pouting lips. “Idiotic, but sweet.”

“Whatever,” Emma rolled her eyes, “It’s your turn.”

So Regina pondered, her eyes rolling upward in thought, as she struggled to pluck any memory from that time to the forefront of her mind. To choose just _one_ , in a sea of crashing want and breaking desire over the course of years she’d thought Emma would never have wanted her. It ached, now, to know what may have happened if they’d had the sense to just _speak_ to one another about it.

She had longed to tell her so many times, any time they’d been home alone, or out together; she’d even spent a few long, lonely nights trying to convince herself to sneak downstairs in the dark and knock on Emma’s door, prepared to burst with the love she felt and express it to her. But she never had.

She had _almost_ told her one completely unexpected morning, on a Saturday, she remembered;

"I was so annoyed," Regina commented. "I'd gone to that ridiculous soccer game of yours, gotten out of my car bound and determined to be excited about your invitation, and by the time I reached the stands and saw _all_ of your people there, everyone so happy and _together,_ I realized there was no room for me in your life, not really.”

She'd stormed off away from Emma's whole world, but a flash of determined and _agile_ blonde rushing past her made her stop in her tracks. She'd watched her then, almost obsessively, couldn't take her eyes off the way she maneuvered the ball and her body around player after player, mud and dirt caked to her own with the sweat and spoils of her labor. Her _legs_ and the _dance_ the whole time she'd had a smile plastered on her face and everything about _Emma_ in that moment made Regina's heart race.

"God, you had that _smirk_ , and you were _so_ talented and _dirty_ and I just wanted--" Emma had sat up a little taller at the implication that Regina had been attracted to her playing soccer and at her dopey look, Regina swatted her arm just the littlest bit.

"What did you want to do, Regina?"

She had stood there for the entirety of the game, watching Emma score and celebrate and _kick ass_ and before her brain caught up with her body, the game was over and Emma was walking past her with an elated grin and waving and shouting "You came!" to her and before Regina could respond, Emma had rushed to the stands to high five her friends and celebrate; leaving Regina, once again, on the outside of her life looking in.

But that time Emma _had_ acknowledged Regina's presence, she'd been downright giddy over seeing her, and while it had stung that she'd left her alone, watching Emma so in her element gave her a newfound appreciation for, well, _everything_ that Emma Swan was. Her heart raced and she was left dumbfounded over how attracted to her she was and _god_ she loved her so much more watching her excel at something and her heart was just in so much trouble.

"I _was_ excited you were there, you know. Why do you think I played so well that day? I was," she bit her lip. "I was showing off for you."

Emma had chatted with her friends and never even glanced over to Regina again. She'd stomped her way back to her car intent on speeding home and throwing herself into lecture notes and a glass _or bottle_ of wine despite the early hour and sorting out her obvious and unfortunate desire for Emma Swan. She'd gotten so far as to unlock the door, but as she went to open it, there was just _something_ that wouldn't let her leave, _something_ that halted her hand and made her turn around. She watched as Emma and her friends separated with waves and smiles, and suddenly Emma was walking with determination right toward Regina.

"I kept trying to look for you, I swear! But you'd stormed off and I couldn't find your car because parking at that place was a nightmare and I just assumed you wouldn't _want_ to see me." Regina shrugged. "Of course I wanted to see you. Why else would I have gone?"

"Hey, thanks for coming, I'm--" Regina had watched her fumble over her words like a fool and had given her an expectant look to encourage her to finish her idiotic sentence out of her pretty, dumb mouth as she tried helplessly not to let it be known she was hanging on every word. Emma ran her fingers through the loosened top of her french braid in that _way_ that she did that was just so _charming_ and Regina couldn't help but drop her eyes to the sliver of skin that became visible with the lifting of her shirt and-- "I'm really glad you came," followed by a soft " _hi_ " falling from her lips and Regina couldn't control herself any longer.

And then suddenly Regina was grabbing for her and turning them and pushing Emma against the car in a way that was so unbecoming of her that she was almost embarrassed, but also, she just really hadn’t cared at all. She pushed into her and kissed her and clawed at the hem of her shirt to run her hands over any skin she could literally get her hands on and it was intoxicating and exhilarating to be so _bad_ that she just couldn't will herself to stop. It was the first time they’d ever done this without one of them having had a little too much to drink, and there was no excuse and nothing to blame for her actions. It was a risk, Regina knew, and Emma could have pushed her away at any moment; but she didn’t. Somehow, she pulled her in even closer, and the payoff was as delicious as Regina had hoped it would be.

"It was a _good_ kiss, Regina reminisced. "I was a little proud of myself for that."

“But then you ran away!”

And then suddenly a car horn had honked and then another and Regina had sprung away from Emma like she'd been burned and her head was spinning and she needed to get out of there. "I--I need to study, I--I have to go, excuse me." Emma had obviously been confused, distracted by the almost accident and cursing from across the lot, she'd barely even registered that she'd moved out of the way and Regina had snuck into her car and was speeding away from her. "I'll see you at home?" She had yelled off after the car and as she found herself standing alone; she also found herself quite confused, but the tingling of her lips where she touched them in the wake of Regina's kisses confused her even more.

Emma gestured frantically in front of Regina, who held her face in her hands in embarrassment.

"I know! I know! It was _such_ a good kiss, and I was a coward and I'd never expected you to kiss me back! I just--"

Emma smirked at her. "Lost your cool and chickened out?"

"Precisely."

Regina had gone just about everywhere she could think of in order to avoid running into Emma at home. But with the growl of her stomach and a headache threatening to blossom behind her eyes she decided she could put it off no longer. She'd pulled into the wide driveway, noting the clunky yellow VW Bug and blood red motorcycle already parked.  Everyone was, of course, at home, but the house was _silent_ sans the running water from both of the bathrooms that resided on the first floor. She assumed Emma was probably in one of them, and all she could do to relieve her mind of the images it kept forming for her was to angrily push headphones into her ears so she didn't _have_ to listen, grabbed an apple, and made her way to her bedroom.

"I love this story," Emma commented happily. "For once, I wasn't the one tripping over myself because of how beautiful _you_ were."

" _Do_ shut up, darling."

She'd stomped her way up to her room, music playing just a little too loudly as she buried her face in a book hoping not to run into a towel clad Emma anywhere on her way up, and she was so distracted she didn't even register that her door was slightly ajar and the bathroom light was on until she'd already changed and made to go and wash her face from the heat of the afternoon. Anger had bubbled up inside her that _someone_ had used her bathroom without her permission, invaded her safe space where she could feel ridiculous for her feelings and not have to account to for them to anyone, and she stomped again to angrily flip the switch.

"So _that's_ why you were so mad after...you know." Emma commented, as if everything was making perfect sense. "No, you always broke into my room, I was mad because you were oblivious to what was right in front of you, per usual."

She'd thrown open the door and Emma had jumped ten feet into the air and Regina's mouth had fallen open in shock because Emma Swan was _completely_ naked _and_ wet in _her_ bathroom; her body froze, and neither of them quite knew what to do. It wasn't as though it was an unwelcome intrusion from either of them, but it certainly was a surprise.

Regina tried harder than she ever had in her life not to look, she truly did. But Emma was confident and cocky and had turned to face her with that _smirk_ and non-verbally _dared_ her to do something. She wasn't sure what, but the dare was definitely there. "Emma, you are...my _god._ "

She had smirked harder. _Idiot_. "What am I, Regina?"

" _Exquisite_."

"Keep going…” She had prompted

"Naked. You're _naked,_ Emma _."_ She quickly shut her eyes and fumbled around for the towel that lived on a hook on the back of her door and threw it in Emma's general direction. She'd noted to herself how comfortable Emma had been just standing there completely bare in front of her. What did that mean? Was she supposed to just--did she dare to go over and--in what world was _this_ happening to her and what if she just--

"I knew you wanted to jump me! You should have just gone for it. Showering together could have been a fun part of living together, you know."

She'd run from the room just like she'd run from Emma pressed up against her car. Her attraction was wildly out of control, _she_ was. She usually kept a safe, calculated twenty steps between them at all times just in case all of this happened. Because Emma Swan naked, in front of her with that _smirk_ was just too damn much to handle all at once. She'd needed a moment to figure out what to do next. If she _should_ do something next.

And then Emma had come sauntering from the bathroom knowing full well that Regina had rushed out of there, beet red and most definitely turned on, and seeing the way her eyes had glossed over as they roamed her very bare body did just as much for Emma as it had done for Regina. So, she had decided to take a chance. She'd walked out, hoping that Regina hadn't fled the room entirely, and instead found her sitting at the edge of the bed, bracing herself firmly there as if to steel her resolve.

And Regina had gasped, again, her body completely betraying any sense of decorum that she'd been trying to build while she waited for Emma to put clothes on or wrap herself in a towel or cover up in some way, but when she exited the room, she was _of course_ coverless and she couldn't breathe and Emma kept coming closer and every step she'd count would just make her brain more fuzzy and suddenly Emma Swan was naked, in her lap, kissing her and nothing in the world felt more _right._ Nothing.

They'd kissed for what felt like hours, Regina dragging her nails down Emma's bare back, over her thighs, and at some point she had somehow ended up on her back, shuffling backwards as a very naked, very enticing Emma was hovering above her, searching her gaze for permission. Regina had given it, surging upward and sealing Emma’s lips with a kiss, every ounce of longing in her body escaping into Emma’s mouth. And Emma had complied, feeling vulnerable and so very naked and yet so _exhilarated_ by every caress and bite and scratch and groan from Regina beneath her, and as the pace increased and their movements became more frantic, more thoughtless, more erratic, Emma thought for sure they would finally tumble over a line they had never yet crossed, and both of them were miraculously stone-cold sober this time and it was daylight in Regina’s airy, beautiful bedroom on a Saturday afternoon and _oh, god, is this it?_

But it hadn’t been; the sudden, earnest call of Emma’s name by Tinkerbell from downstairs to _hurry up or I’ll leave without you_ reminded them both that Emma very much had a weekly sorority meeting for which she was now very much running late.

“Let’s...let’s put a pin in this, okay?” Emma had requested, leaning down to press a firm kiss to Regina's lips, a little desperate and apologetic, and Regina, who couldn’t quite catch her breath, had nodded, swallowing hard around disappointment and desire so strong she felt tears well in her eyes. Because Emma wouldn’t be back that night, and they had both known it.

“And you didn’t come home until the next morning, looking like you’d been hit by a truck and begging Ruby to make you a Bloody Mary, and you didn’t even look at me when I walked into the room,” Regina finished, unable to hide the little bit of bitterness that slipped out over the last sentiment, and Emma sighed deeply, regretfully.

“I couldn’t see _anything_ , I was a walking hangover,” Emma justified, though she had the good sense to at least seem a little embarrassed by it. “Jesus, I had a drinking problem in college, didn’t I?”

“Well, you own a bar now…” Regina trailed off, suggestive, but she said it around a smile. “Which, by the way, you are welcome for, as I supplied the permits for you to build it.”

“Which was that last time we really….lost control,” Emma recalled softly, and she reached between them to swipe her thumb across Regina’s bottom lip as her heart raced with the memory.

"Maybe we shouldn't..." Regina suggested, an earnest, happy sort of warning in her tone that Emma felt she should probably heed.

Emma sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right, but it was really, _really_ good." She could tell that, regardless, they were both recalling the same memory.

She hadn’t been living in Storybrooke again for very long the first time she had run into Regina without warning. Henry had been no more than three years old, then, when her parents had finally convinced her (rightfully) that raising him in the city with less of a support system wasn’t best for either of them, and her father had known just how to entice her. He loved projects; flipping buildings was one of his favorite kinds, and Emma, who had just left a job she loved in Boston managing a bar that she loved even _more,_ had needed a project.

So he’d bought the old, dilapidated building and helped her restore it, slowly and with great effort until she had a space worth turning into a bar, and hopefully a loft above for them to live in, but before they’d been able to accomplish any of it, she had needed the permits. And for those, she had needed the Mayor.

“I don’t know why I thought Mayor Mills was your mother,” Emma wondered aloud now, her brow furrowing in thought. “I just went to Town Hall expecting to see that crazy bitch and hoping she didn’t remember me.” Regina laughed then, full and beautiful, and it made Emma blush.

She had gotten onto the elevator on the first floor, her nose buried in the paperwork she carried in a crisp, clean folder, and pressed the button for the seventh floor, reading patiently as it lifted slowly. The doors opened with a _ding_ on perhaps the third floor, allowing a woman to enter radiating so much energy Emma had thought fleetingly that it might knock her over, though she never spared a glance her way, preoccupied as she was. But she hadn’t been able to ignore it, wondering for three floors more at the way the air somehow felt like it does just before a thunderstorm and it smelled clean and sophisticated and _familiar_ in a way that made Emma’s stomach lurch, and not just with the motion of the elevator, and she had to chance a glance because her heart had been racing and she’d just _known_ , and--

The doors had _dinged_ again, and the woman swept forward, clearly in a rush, before Emma had gotten a good look at her. She had never even looked up from her phone to acknowledge Emma’s presence, and it was a good thing because the dress was more formal and tighter than any she’d ever seen and her hair was shorter and bouncing against her shoulders as she moved but there was no mistaking the swing of those hips as she walked away.

There, after three years apart, leaving without sparing a glance back, had been Regina Mills.

Emma hadn’t even been able to get off the elevator in shock, though it was the floor on which she had intended, and needed, to stop. She hastily pushed the button for the floor below, six times in rapid succession just for good measure, praying that the doors wouldn’t open and reveal Regina again. She had nearly fallen forward when they _did_ open to a reception area on the sixth floor, dropping onto a chair with her file in her lap while her mind reeled. _Why did I assume Mayor Mills was Cora? When did she move here? Why did_ **_I_ ** _move here?_ It had all rushed back, every ambiguous memory, every confusing thought, and she could do little more than panic. _Control yourself, Swan._

“I didn’t even see you on that elevator,” Regina interrupted, and while she definitely remembered the events that followed, she could not recall Emma’s version of what led up to them. Her face crumpled in confusion. “Or, I don’t think I did.”

“You didn’t,” Emma confirmed, reaching out to smooth the wrinkles that appeared on Regina’s forehead. “Or you wouldn’t have...reacted the way you did.”

For she had gathered her courage, fixed her face with what she hoped was a look more determined and confident than she felt, and resumed her journey to the Mayor’s office on the seventh floor, unsure if she’d find Cora or Regina there, but she knew she needed to be ready either way.

And she had arrived and announced herself to the receptionist, her heart pounding and palms sweating and then it was, “ _Mayor Mills, your 9:30 is here_ ,” and she was being ushered through a doorway she was in no way prepared to enter.

The office was elegant and ornate and so _Regina_ it made Emma blink back tears; Regina hadn’t even looked up yet, and Emma could do little more than stare at her, at every change, at the sharp, attractive angles of her face, the short hair flipping and curling while still somehow tamed and professional and sophisticated and so _adult_. This wasn’t her college roomate, or her sometimes drunken make-out partner, or even the girl who had helped Emma become a mother; this was the Mayor of the town where she now lived, and nothing more.

And she _still_ hadn’t looked up, so Emma, with a determination she didn’t quite feel, simply marched forward, approaching the edge of the desk, and waited. The second Regina had looked up from her paperwork, however, their eyes meeting and prompting a sharp intake of breath from each of them, Emma suddenly longed for the space she had just eradicated.

“ _Emma_ ,” Regina had breathed out, dropping the folder in her hand onto the surface of her desk in shock, one hand coming to rest against her stomach as though she needed it there to hold herself together. She said it like she _always_ did, like the world was ending and beginning on the tip of her tongue.

Emma hadn’t seen her in _years_ and she was still so painfully gorgeous; a deluge of feelings flooded her body then, her heart pounding even harder as Regina leaned onto both of her palms against her desk in her own surprise, and Emma wanted nothing more in that moment than to sweep every item from its surface and lay her out onto it and --

Before she had known what she was doing she had circled the edge of the desk and rushed towards her, found her fingers tangled in Regina’s hair, marveling at its length. And their eyes met once and then they were kissing, like no time had passed, like they were each two glasses deep and it was the middle of the night and they’d needed only the tiniest, flimsiest excuse to succumb to mutual desire.

She could tell that Regina was furious, could feel it in every brush of the woman’s teeth against her lip, in the muffled groan that Regina held inside to deny Emma the satisfaction of hearing it. She felt it in the hands grasped against her sides so tightly that Emma had known she would bruise just beneath her ribcage, but the tongue dipping into her mouth as she gasped made her forget that thought as quickly as it had come.

Regina had tilted her head back, granting Emma access to the side of her neck (it was always her first move,) her lips following familiar paths as though she’d never stopped taking them, and every part of her ached for Emma to stop and to keep going, to _never_ stop, and she choked down a sob, though there was nothing she could do about the way her voice cracked as she cried, “You’re _here_ , what are you doing _here_ ,” before Emma reclaimed her lips in lieu of an answer, each kiss longer and more desperate than the last.

It was as Emma’s hand disentangled from her hair and crept slowly down her body towards the hem of her dress that Regina’s head had stopped spinning, and everything came into focus, and with one hard shove to the chest she managed to detach herself from the only thing her body had truly felt in three years. “What are you doing, Miss Swan? How _dare_ you!”

“Miss _Swan_?” Emma had cried, stumbling back in disbelief, the back of her fingers swiping across her mouth as they tingled and burned. “How dare _I_? Who are you?”

“I’m your 9:30 meeting, to which you were late,” Regina supplied coldly, brushing the front of her dress down smoothly as though to restore herself to proper order as she struggled to breathe normally.

“ _You_ were late too,” Emma bristled, still irritated by Regina’s inability to accept blame without deflecting it anywhere other than on herself. “I haven’t seen you in _years_ , and this is your response? We were so close and you just...you just left. How am I not supposed to _kiss_ you?”

“Don’t you dare say those words to me, Emma Swan. Don’t you dare.”

“Which ones?” Emma had replied coolly. “That you left? That I wanted to kiss you? That I _loved--_ ”

“Any of them,” Regina murmured, deep and murderous, and Emma shuddered despite herself.

“You didn’t even say goodbye,” Emma had whispered, one last attempt, and hated herself for how vulnerable the words sounded as they fell from her mouth. Regina softened, if only slightly, her posture less rigid as she gestured for Emma to take the seat opposite her own.

"It says here you're applying for a renovation permit to a historical town building?” She prompted professionally, completely disregarding that Emma had said anything at all. “ And I presume you've filled out all the necessary paperwork? I'll need your loan application approval, your building blueprints, and you'll need your licenses notarized if I decide to push this through for you. Do you have any _relevant_ questions for me?"

“I do,” Emma had replied, her voice devoid of emotion, and she clutched the arms of her chair as tightly as her hands would allow. She continued, in a voice so still it gave even Regina pause. “When did you get engaged?”

Regina had looked down briefly at her left hand, enormous diamond glinting and mocking her as it always did, and she discreetly placed her hand into her lap and cleared her throat. “My personal life is no longer relevant to you, Miss Swan. Is there anything else?”

“Just one more thing, yeah,” Emma had nodded slowly, still looking down and away as though to gather only the thoughts she wished to express. She raised her eyes to meet Regina’s, a hard challenge in them that Regina hadn’t seen turned her way in years. “When did you become such a royal _bitch_?”

“Oh, Emma,” Regina had replied smugly, and only a little sadly, the answer immediate and leaving no room for argument. “You were a fool to ever presume I was anything less.”

“So that sucked,” Emma forced a laugh. Regina had covered her face with her hands in embarrassment as she shook her head at the ridiculousness of how awful she had been. Emma was trying desperately to pry them away from her face, to no avail. "If anything, it was still _really_ sexy. We got really good at the hateful banter for a while there."

“I miss it sometimes, you know,” Regina replied, a little forlorn in a way that made Emma reach out to her to _fix_ it, and Regina grinned suddenly, the fingertips of one hand dragging up and down Emma’s abdomen beneath the sheets. “So if there was any way you could, I don’t know…”

“Make you mad again?” Emma suggested, tilting her head to steal another heated kiss from Regina, who hummed in surprise at the back of her throat.

“Make me  _furious_ ,” Regina agreed, and moved in closer to press herself against Emma’s still flushed body.

“Livid?” Emma murmured against her lips, and she rolled onto her back so smoothly that when she tugged Regina to straddle her hips again, Regina hardly noticed the change in position.

“Irrational,” Regina breathed, and she bit Emma’s bottom lip in order to soothe it with her tongue. “ _Unreasonable._ ”

And while Regina had a litany of synonyms prepared to suggest, neither of them had intended, necessarily, to stay up all hours of the night and she was so exhausted but this was where they had ended up; with Regina clasping Emma’s hands a little too tightly above her head and Emma pulling Regina into her and refusing to let her go, desperate to feel her and know her and _love_ her just a little more, and suddenly the dark sky began to lighten and they both realized that it was Christmas morning.

 


	22. Chapter 22

 

For as lively as the previous day had been, Leila wouldn’t have expected to wake up on Christmas morning, much later than she had thought she would have been allowed to sleep, to a nearly silent house.

It was almost ten-thirty in the morning before she stirred naturally, awakening in that blissful, alarm-free way that came with weekends and holidays, and her first thought was how odd it was that Henry hadn’t burst into her room demanding her attention when the sun came up. Nor did she smell that heavenly scent of spiced coffee wafting upstairs from the kitchen where she knew some glorious holiday breakfast would be waiting for her. Weird.

She took her time getting dressed, almost daring some noise to break the silence, and she had just shuffled down the stairs in her slim, comfy slippers when she ran into Henry in the foyer, his hair sticking up in every direction, his book tucked under one arm and a look of utter confusion on his little face.

“Merry Christmas,” Leila offered first, and though he still looked confused, he broke into a goofy smile in return.

“It is Christmas, right?” He asked, suddenly concerned that he may have gotten the date wrong, and Leila’s heart swelled with affection for him.

“Sure is,” she confirmed, clapping him on the shoulder and steering him in the direction of the kitchen, “so let’s get in there and see what Regina has come up with for breakfast this--”

The words died on her lips as she swung the kitchen door open to find it immaculately clean, in order, and with not a breakfast item to be found. “What the f-- where are they?”

“No one’s been down here yet,” Henry observed, making one walking survey of the kitchen and touching every surface. A sudden, horror-struck expression overtook his face. “What if they opened presents without us because we slept late?”

And at a speed much more rapid than Leila would have preferred ten minutes after waking up, he tore back through the door in the direction of the family room, bound and determined to catch their mothers in the midst of their nefarious betrayal. Leila caught up with him just as his shoulders sagged in disappointment, coming upon another empty room.

“Not in here either,” he sighed, and though he seemed to have accepted the situation, plopping down into the recliner in disappointment, Leila looked around the room, mentally collecting evidence. Although the fireplace had been turned off, the television had not, leaving it on a dimmed, still screen of movie choices. There was an empty bottle of wine beside an equally empty decanter on the coffee table, and Leila added these facts to the late morning hour and it could only equal one outcome that made her face scrunch up in displeasure.

“Should we go and get them?” Henry suggested hopefully, glancing sidelong at the pile of presents teasing him from beneath the tree.

“Definitely not,” Leila insisted, changing the subject to distract him towards literally any other idea than going up to Regina’s bedroom. “I’m still getting the hang of this sister thing, but I think I can handle Christmas breakfast, huh? How about it?”

“I’m not having ‘raw toast’ because you don’t know how the machine works,” Henry warned her skeptically, but stood anyway to lead her back to the kitchen.

“That was one time!” Leila argued, indignant; it wasn’t her fault Regina’s fancy, rich-people toaster looked like some sort of space appliance. Besides, she knew how to work it now. But still, she wracked her brain for some kind of idea that would make Henry feel like maybe she had some idea what she was doing.

Whatever they’re still doing up there, Leila thought with some mild level of disgust, had better be worth it.

 

\--------

 

It was with an entirely new sense of wholeness that Emma awoke after too few hours of sleep, shivering beneath Regina’s silken sheets. She couldn’t believe that they’d stayed up all night, that they had fallen asleep naked and together, that she had opened her eyes and the first thing she had seen was Regina; the soft lines of her bare back, endlessly smooth skin, short hair that had curled just so in the back from sweat and effort.

Regina, her Regina, after all this time.

It felt like forever ago that she had gotten to see her, just like this; bare and tender, without obligations or obstacles or distractions. She reached out to thread her fingers through her hair, marveling at its softness, and how different it felt between her fingers at this length. It had been quite some time since Regina had slept this late, but then again, Emma supposed, it had been quite some time since Regina had done a lot of things.

It didn’t take long for Regina to begin to stir beneath her touch; immediately, Emma maneuvered her body across the space between them, molding her body against Regina’s perfectly and pressing a soft kiss to the back of her shoulder. The responding hum was so soft, so familiar, so refreshing that tears began to sting behind Emma’s eyes.

Regina turned in her embrace quite suddenly, one palm resting against Emma’s cheek as their eyes met, and she found it impossible to look away. For there Emma was, the same uninhibited, unabashed charm behind mischievous green eyes that had made Regina fall for her in the first place.

“There you are,” Regina sighed, and Emma barely felt her move before she was kissing her, wildly, passionately, and with a ferocity that Emma hadn’t even known she had been missing until now. There wasn’t a single part of Regina with which she didn’t ache to become reacquainted.

“And here you are,” Emma agreed, gasping into Regina’s mouth as one kiss ended and another began. They continued this way for several moments, eventually slowing down to catch their breath, and Regina turned in Emma’s arms, her back pressed against Emma’s front so that she could be held; soft, strong arms wrapped tightly around her and Regina’s eyes fluttered closed in relief.

“I love your hair this length,” Emma commented after a few minutes of comfortable silence, running her fingers through it once again. “It’s really sexy.”

“You’ve seen it this length for years,” Regina replied, punctuated by a roll of her eyes that went unseen. “It’s not new.”

“I’m just...appreciating it a little differently this morning, okay?” Emma argued. “There’s just enough of it...to grab. And pull.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Regina reprimanded her, though with very little conviction as she gasped when Emma did just that.

“Oh?” Emma smirked as Regina’s eyes rolled back into her head for a very different reason, her hand still clenched in the hair at the nape of Regina’s neck where her head had fallen back against Emma’s shoulder.

“Fine, you’ve made your point,” Regina replied, a little breathless, and Emma let her go, though as she chuckled over her victory, she pressed a gentle kiss against Regina’s shoulder in some form of an apology. “You haven’t changed a bit, you know.”

“Well, you shouldn’t mess with perfection,” Emma shrugged, grinning and confident, to which Regina responded with a gentle jab of her elbow into Emma’s stomach. She groaned, though she didn’t let Regina go; rather, she pulled her in closer. “You’ve changed. You’re more violent now.”

“Perhaps,” Regina smiled, exhaling a long breath at the feeling of Emma’s hand running through her hair yet again. Every touch felt as though it would light her soul on fire, the way they had from the very moment she’d first met Emma, all bright eyes and exuberance and bravery. She let another comfortable silence fall between them, relishing the feeling of so much warm, bare skin pressed so intimately to her own after what felt like a lifetime of waiting.

“Do we tell them?” Regina whispered eventually, and she felt Emma tense for the briefest moment against her before relaxing again just as quickly.

“Haven’t we earned a few hours to just be us?” Emma countered, to which Regina had no argument. “Besides, Henry would be insufferable.”

“Speaking of Henry...” Regina trailed off suggestively, and Emma, who had been absentmindedly stroking up and down Regina’s side, quickly disentangled herself, leaping from the bed in her haste to defend herself.

“Oh, here we go. Okay. Listen,” Emma began, and Regina rolled over onto her other side and leaned up against one elbow, the sheet drawn up over her bare chest; she fixed Emma with a lazy, expectantly quirked eyebrow as she stumbled over a response while searching the floor for her discarded clothes.

“I shouldn’t be held accountable for my actions!” Emma blurted out, rising triumphantly with her sweater clutched in her fist, which she pointed at Regina in accusation. “That’s your fault!”

“I just find it interesting how you said there was nothing between you…” Regina let the end of her sentence drop again, cool and casual, and she avoided eye contact purposefully for as long as she knew it would take to drive Emma crazy.

"Well, I told you not to do something like this in the first place!” Emma cried, frustrated. She sat heavily on the edge of the bed, bundling the sweater in front of her chest beneath her crossed arms. “You basically asked for me to be with other people!”

“That’s the least of our issues, Emma, you could have died,” Regina huffed, equally frustrated, and rolled away to the other side to stand up and cross the room towards her closet, similarly feeling the need to get dressed. “And if that scar on your side is any indication, it seems like you’re still here because I did what I thought was best!”

“Oh please, I didn’t die,” Emma called after her as she disappeared through the closet door. “You’re not right about everything, Regina. Come down off your high horse.”

“I seem to remember that being exactly where you used to like me.” Regina appeared again suddenly, wrapped in a silken, crimson crobe cinched tightly around her waist, hands on her hips and a challenging smirk overtaking her mouth.

“Oh, shut up.” Emma grumbled, though she relented, rising from her perch at the end of the bed and striding confidently towards Regina, a dangerous glint in her eyes that made Regina shiver in anticipation. She reached out and with one sharp tug, the tie around her waist came undone, the robe falling open gracefully. “You need a shower, Your Highness.”

“Then I suppose I’ll need company, too,” Regina murmured, a low growl tickling the end of the phrase as she grabbed a still very naked Emma by the hips and began walking backwards towards the en suite bathroom, Emma following purposefully in her wake.

 

\--------

 

The first thing Leila noticed about her mothers when they finally made it downstairs and into the kitchen was how different the air that surrounded them felt.

She was standing beside the stove, carefully monitoring a pan full of eggs that she had scrambled while they cooked when she heard her mother’s footsteps approaching the kitchen. Regina seemed taller, somehow, larger than life, though she was exactly as barefoot as she was every morning; on this one, she had foregone the usual way she twisted her hair elegantly atop her head, leaving it instead to fall in waves around her face, which was also glowing in a way Leila wasn’t sure she had ever seen. Otherwise, she had seemed quite normal, breezing through the door happily and making a beeline for the copper kettle, filling it with water to boil, wishing them both a good morning as though she hadn’t completely shaken up every bit of the morning routine Leila had come to expect.

But something was different, Leila knew; she could feel it in her bones, and she spared a concerned glance to Henry, who was seated comfortably at the table, to confirm that he shared her suspicion. His respondent nod was all she needed.

As the kettle heated up, Regina hummed to herself, a little tune that Leila didn’t recognize as she set about gathering the ingredients for omelets, seemingly without noticing that Leila and Henry had already covered the table with breakfast dishes. They had made toast with butter and jam, bowls of fruit, waffles, and oatmeal; they were quite proud that they had managed a spread to rival Regina’s own with their limited skill set, and so Leila’s forehead wrinkled in annoyance. “Hello. Regina! We already did that. Just...sit down.”

But before she could do so, Emma entered too, grinning and rushing to the table immediately to bestow a firm kiss upon the top of Henry’s head with a mumbled, “Merry Christmas, kid.”

He smiled around the spoon of oatmeal in his mouth, and Emma ruffled his hair affectionately before turning her gaze upwards and freezing. She saw Leila, still standing beside Regina across the room, and her eyes filled with tears, an awestruck look crossing her face that Leila had never seen before. It was unsettling, and she shrank beneath it as Emma rushed towards them both.

“Oh, Regina,” Emma sighed, her face crumpling as she reached out to place her hand on the side of Leila’s face tentatively. “She’s…”

Regina nodded, a rush of tears springing to her own eyes as she replied, “I know,” and they shared a knowing (and utterly perplexing, to Leila) look before Emma swept Leila into perhaps the longest and tightest hug she had ever received, one of Emma’s hands cradling the back of her head gently. Leila allowed this, and while she was confused, it was the most maternal Emma had ever been with her, and some part of Leila hadn’t even known she was craving it.

“Merry Christmas to you too?” She broke the tense, thick silence awkwardly, to which Regina laughed and hugged them both from Leila’s other side, surrounding her completely. From between her crying parents, she shot Henry a desperate, bewildered look, to which he responded with a dramatic shrug, sporting a dumbfounded expression of his own.

Before long, she began to wriggle and squirm in their embrace, forcing Regina first and then Emma to release her. Emma cleared her throat, giving her a shaky smile as she walked to the table, absentmindedly twisting her fingers through her own hair to knot it into an effortlessly perfect, sturdy braid; it was as though she’d done it a million times before, and Leila, who had only ever seen Emma’s hair tied back in a messy ponytail as though she didn’t quite know what else to do with it, grew more suspicious of both her mothers’ behavior. They had always been a little weird, and for the most part, she just went with it. But something about this morning was elevated, and she wasn’t sure she liked the uncertainty.

The kettle finally began to whistle over the high flame, and Regina swiftly turned the dial of the burner down before reaching above her head and opening a cabinet door, producing a seldom-used glass teapot, along with a brown paper bag filled with a floral blend of tea leaves. She methodically spooned the correct amount into the infuser, poured the hot water in, and waited, all the while ignoring Leila’s observation.

“Tea?” She demanded, a little dubiously, and Regina simply moved around her, joining Henry, and now Emma, at the table, leaving Leila standing in her confusion behind the island. “You’re having tea. With breakfast?”

“Clearly,” Regina mused, sliding slowly into her usual seat and regarding Leila as though she was the one behaving strangely. “Is that not okay?”

“It’s...fine,” Leila replied slowly, taking her eggs off of the stove and scraping them into a porcelain bowl to bring over to the table. She took her own seat as well, glancing around at the rest of her family. Regina, who was pouring tea into the small cup Leila had set there for her; Emma, who was hastily spooning eggs onto her plate beside a tall stack of waffles, and Henry, his little fingers twitching in the direction of the storybook behind his back as though he longed to pry it open and delve inside of it. She took a waffle onto her own plate, dousing it with syrup, still feeling proud that she’d pulled together Christmas breakfast without burning the house down. “Did you guys...sleep well?”

“Fine,” they replied simultaneously, dismissively, but Leila didn’t miss the significant glance that they shared over Henry’s head, and her nose wrinkled in displeasure, immediately regretting the attempt at small talk. She wasn’t sure what else to do; she’d never felt so uncomfortable around either Regina or Emma since she’d met them. She looked wistfully at the empty French press in the middle of the table, unused, ground coffee lining its bottom; she had expected Regina to pour the boiled water into it, and now here she was, deplorably under caffeinated.

Emma must have caught her longing stare for the way she gently pushed her chair back and smiled apologetically. “You made a great breakfast, kid, let me make you some coffee.”

Leila sighed in relief, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes. This morning had been strange from the moment she woke up; she felt it was patently unfair she should have to face it without at least one cup of coffee. Emma filled the kettle a second time, settling it over a high flame, and leaned forward against the island as she waited. Regina, Leila noticed, was watching her every move with a kind of muted adoration, and when Emma caught her eye, a light behind her eyes like she’d been struck by a certain idea, she nodded her head to indicate that Regina should continue paying attention. She grabbed an apple from the overflowing bowl of fruit and tossed it from hand to hand before tossing it onto her shoulder, rolling it down her arm, and she hitched it with her elbow so that it sailed through the air and into Regina’s open, waiting hands.

Regina smirked, never breaking their eye contact, and took a delicate bite to the side of the apple as Emma grinned proudly. “Well, at least some things never change.”

Emma wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. "I've still got some old tricks up my sleeve."

Leila lifted her legs to stretch them out and rest them on Emma’s unoccupied seat, crossing one ankle over the other, and her lips turned down in an impressed pout. “Woah, that's cool. How many times did you have to watch Aladdin before you got that down?”

“Oh please, I taught him how to do it, the sneaking thief,” Emma corrected, rolling her eyes in annoyance as she removed the whistling kettle from the flame. “As if that idiot could have come up with that one on his own.”

“I think she might mean the movie Aladdin, darling,” Regina clarified, a warning sort of suggestiveness to her tone, and Leila tilted her head in confusion as Emma rejoined them to brew Leila’s coffee.

“Oh, right,” Emma answered, huffing and shaking her head while stirring the contents of the glass cylinder. “Because of course he got a whole movie. Show off. Using my moves to bag a princess? Pathetic.”

Before Leila could interrupt with any variation of what the hell are you talking about that was fighting to escape her mouth, Regina scoffed, leaning on both elbows with her teacup balanced delicately between her fingers. She blew across the surface of the steaming liquid as she fired back at Emma. “If I recall correctly,” Regina drawled, her voice equal parts teasing and fond, “you, too, bagged a princess. Unless, of course...you’d have preferred Jasmine?”

“No!” Emma replied, hurried and sincere, and Regina smiled coolly, knowingly, as Emma fell all over herself to contradict her. “I just think it’s stupid that he--”

“Emma, please just let it go.”

“Are you two high?” Leila whispered, glancing between them dubiously, as though keeping her voice down would conceal the truth from Henry, who was now fully perusing his book. “Is that why you slept so late?”

Emma stilled at Leila’s question, and then turned her head to Regina, seemingly for permission; the other woman simply shrugged one shoulder, and Emma nodded slowly. “Yes, that’s it. We’re high!”

“As a kite,” Regina agreed, taking another loud, deliberate bite of her apple, and sent Leila a sly wink that left her even more confused than she had been before.

“Whatever, can we just eat?” Leila huffed; it didn’t seem like she’d be getting to the bottom of their behavior anytime soon, so she might as well answer the rumbling in her stomach. “I am neither caffeinated nor well-rested enough to decipher your weird this morning.”

“And anyway, Christmas morning is for opening presents, and we’re like four hours behind,” Henry reminded them, sending a sharp glare first to Emma and then Regina. He knew, too, that something about them was off, but he didn’t think Leila was going to like his theory. He thumbed the pages of his book absentmindedly beneath the table; it couldn’t be, could it?

Was Henry...right?

 

\--------

 

It was about an hour later when Leila felt the first crackle of electricity charging at her fingertips.

It was unlike anything she’d ever felt in her life; she and Henry had been sat before a roaring fire, a small pile of wrapped gifts on the floor in front of each of them, Emma and Regina huddled together on the couch across from them. He had just opened a particularly exciting gift from Regina, some collectible item from some fantasy series they both loved, and Emma had beamed at his exuberant gratitude, pressing a kiss to Regina’s cheek, and Leila had felt a vibration in her hands so strong it nearly made her yelp out loud. What the hell was that?

But before she could either write the feeling off as a fluke, or comment on it aloud to any of the others, Regina had suggested she open another gift, and so she did, unveiling a red leather jacket from Emma. It was supple and soft beneath her fingers, and she looked up at Emma curiously, who shrugged by way of explanation.

“I got one like it when I was your age, and I wore it for years. Good ones last forever,” Emma commented, to which Regina chuckled.

“You still wear it,” Regina corrected, sighing wistfully as her eyes clouded over in thought. “God, I love that jacket.”

“Well, I like this one,” Leila assured Emma, shrugging it on over her sweater to make sure that it fit, which it did perfectly. “I feel kinda badass in it.”

“That’s good, because it kinda, well...it kinda goes with your big present,” Emma continued, suddenly a little nervous. "In fact, it's a necessary accessory." She braced herself against Regina’s thigh and pushed herself into a standing position; she dug among the bottom-most branches of the twinkling tree, eventually producing a tiny, wrapped box and tossing it into Leila’s lap before settling back down beside Regina. “Go on, open it.”

Leila wasn’t sure what, exactly, could be her “big” present in a box so small, and she gasped when a large silver key fell out into her hand. The intricately woven “VW” at the top of the key left nothing to the imagination, and she looked up to Emma’s hopeful, expectant smile in disbelief. “Is this...are you...?”

“I got my Bug when I was 16,” Emma smiled, and Leila turned the key over and over in her hand as though she expected it to disappear if she left it alone for too long. “It’s in the garage at my parents’ house, and my dad has kept it running and in great shape, and...well…”  She shrugged again, glancing sidelong at Regina before taking her hand within her own and continuing on. “I get to give you this if your mother gets to set the rules.”

“I don’t even have my license yet,” Leila breathed out, her voice shaking over the last word. This was too much; her hands shook too as she maneuvered the key from one hand to the other. She had never been given so much in her life, there was no way she would be allowed to keep it all, and every Christmas gift and sentiment was catching up with her quite suddenly; she began to breathe heavily, as though it was becoming difficult to do so, and --

“It’s okay,” Henry assured her, placing a hand gently on her knee from where he had moved in closer without her notice. She blinked rapidly through tears as she looked at him, taking in his comforting smile and bright eyes as he patted her knee again. He always knew, somehow, what she needed and when. “When you get it, you can drive me to school! And I can pick the music.”

Leila choked over the laugh that he prompted; she wished sometimes, rather than the swirl of emotions and fears that tangled her every interaction, that she could see things as plainly as Henry did by his own logic. My sister has a car, so she will drive me places. She likes me, so I can pick the music. My mom is in love with the mayor, so they’re actually both princesses from my fairy tale book. Maybe she wouldn’t lose them. Maybe she could hold onto this. Maybe she could be thankful and mean it.  

“Thank you...so much,” Leila sniffled, doing her best to hide the tears she hadn’t expected or wanted. “What...what are the rules?”

“There will be many,” Regina warned sharply, and for once Leila didn’t shrink away from the harsh tone; Regina’s eyes were shining happily, and it was clear that she was enjoying every moment of this. “And it might be Emma’s car, but I will be teaching you to drive it. Emma’s a terrible driver.”

“Hey,” Emma argued, slapping Regina lightly on the arm with the back of her hand. “I’m a great driver.”

“You couldn’t even lead a horse to water.”

“It’s not my fault your stupid horse didn’t want to drink after riding all day,” Emma complained, leaning away from Regina with a huff. “Cars and horses are not the same. Cars do what you tell them to.”

“So do horses, if you’re not inept,” Regina rolled her eyes, giving both Henry and Leila a significant, knowing smirk. “Henry, why don’t you open yours now? The long one on the bottom.”

So he did, shifting the rectangular box out from beneath the other two unwrapped gifts he had left, and slowly unwrapped it. It contained what looked like a perfectly coiled leather belt, and he slowly unraveled it, looking up at Regina in confusion.

“You always have your nose in that book of fairytales, and...well, every knight knows his way around a horse. I started riding when I was your age, so I just thought you might...take after me, in that way,” she explained, and at Henry’s continued confusion, she slowly slid onto her knees on the floor, crossing awkwardly over to sit beside him. “These were the reins I used with my horse when I started. I thought maybe we could try lessons for a while and then, if you like it...you can pick out a horse of your own.”

“No way!” Henry cried, throwing his arms around Regina in a hug that nearly knocked her over backwards. “This is the best present ever!”

And as he threw himself from Regina’s arms and practically into Emma’s lap, she looked over his head at Regina, bewildered and accusatory as she hissed, “We did not discuss a horse!”

“You’re giving Leila a car,” Regina argued incredulously, taking Henry’s former place on the floor beside Leila, who was gently folding her new leather jacket back into its box.

“That’s not the same thing,” Emma grumbled, though she found it hard to stay annoyed as Henry continued to hug her, whispering his gratitude on repeat, as though she was the one who had given him the gift; but perhaps, she thought, her heart skipping happily, he saw them as a unit, and so naturally, it was from both of them. “But there are gonna be...rules. It might be Regina’s horse, but I’m gonna teach you how to...drive it.”

Henry pulled back and looked at her, skeptical and amused, and Emma heaved a sigh, long-suffering and dejected. “Fine. Regina wins Christmas.”

“Haven’t you learned by now that I win everything?” Regina mused, sharing with Emma a significant look before pushing up from the ground and then turning to extend a hand to help Leila up as well. “Now,” she began, clapping her hands together and looking expectantly between Emma and Henry, “how about Leila’s other big present?”

“Oh, I like this one!” Henry exclaimed, leaping up and dragging Emma up from the couch with him. “Come on!"

 

\--------

 

They were gathered in a semi-circle in the foyer, Henry bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. He had been waiting patiently not to ruin this one secret, and he was quite proud of himself for accomplishing it. Leila, on the other hand, was more apprehensive than excited. She had already been given more today in the way of physical gifts than ever before in her life; while she was more grateful than she could express, she wasn’t sure she would be able to stand another one without going into full-on panic mode.

“Are you ready?” Regina asked her, and Leila got the feeling that Regina understood her anxiety a bit more than the others might. “We don’t have to…”

“No, I want to,” Leila insisted, nodding and swallowing hard. “What is it?”

“Can I do it?” Henry asked, turning to look up at Emma, pleading with his eyes in such spectacular fashion that she almost relented.

“No, it’s for your sister,” Emma reminded him, and though he crumpled slightly, his bright smile returned just as quickly.

“Pull the string, pull the string!” He cried, pointing to the drawstring of the attic door, and Leila gasped as things clicked into place in her mind. She looked at both Regina and Emma for some sort of confirmation, and at both of their encouraging nods, she reached out and tugged on the string, prompting the collapsible ladder to fall to the floor.

“Oh!” She exclaimed in soft surprise, straightening the legs of the ladder to make them sturdy enough to climb.

“Go on, climb up,” Emma urged, and it was all Leila needed to begin her cautious ascent over each step, her heart hammering so hard she both heard and felt it in her head as she burst through the open space into the attic, gasping at the sight that met her eyes.

It was exactly as she remembered it, all bright light, breezy comfort, and beautiful hardwood floors, the precise opposite of any impression she’d had of an attic before this one. The windows along the back wall would allow in enough sun that she felt free, while the darker corners still felt cozy rather than cloying. The removal of the holiday decorations had left the space entirely empty, as she remembered it, but it was clear that everything had been changed since she last saw it. There were posters adorning all the walls of all her favorite bands, some vintage, some signed, and she stared at them aghast as her eyes fluttered from one to the next excitedly.

"I did recon every time I was in your room and found out what all your favorite bands were!” Henry explained, climbing up the ladder, practically skipping over to join her where she stood, transfixed as she took everything in. “The posters were my idea!"

"It's true," Emma commented, stepping cautiously into the room before turning to offer Regina a helping hand over the top of the ladder behind her. "And I called in some favors and had friends of friends get some stuff signed for you. The vintage ones are my favorites and they were actually really fun to track down."

She looked up to the ceiling, twinkling lights that rivaled those downstairs and strung like starlights, with the largest sunroof she'd ever seen in the middle.

"It opens," Regina explained, coming to stand behind Henry with her hands on his shoulders, smiling down at him as he still bounced in excitement over their accomplishment. "There's a switch next to your bed. I had it installed a few months ago."

"I love it! It'll be like Starry Night, like my ornament."

Regina grinned; that had been the whole point. "Yes, exactly. There's nothing quite like laying under the stars on a clear night." She sighed whimsically as if remembering a distant time, in another life. She explained further, "You get claustrophobic when you're stressed, and then you run. So I thought, if you could let the sun or moon light and fresh air in, you might feel more at peace in your own skin and in this house. The bay window opens all the way too."

Leila looked to where she pointed, and then turned her focus to the best part of the whole room: a giant platform bed centered beneath the skylight, topped with a comforter that looked so fluffy and soft, like the largest cloud on a summer’s day, the one that looks welcoming enough to take a nap on it. And then, nearest to her, a beautiful oak desk against a wall lined with bookshelves, each of them full from top to bottom. Regina stepped into place beside her, running a hand reverently over the surface.

"Those were built by my father,” she told her quietly, and Leila knew her sadness wouldn’t allow her to speak any louder. “He was quite handy and believed that having a sturdy and reliable desk would lead to success. It was in my room while I was in school. I hope you’ll like it. He would’ve...you would have been very dear to him."

Leila’s heart clenched at the regret in Regina’s voice, the way her eyes closed to stop any tears from falling.

“This is...it’s all perfect,” she whispered, placing a hand cautiously on Regina’s arm where it still rested against the desktop. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Regina smiled, and she placed her own hand over Leila’s. “You deserve a room all your own at home, not a guest room that used to be mine.” They shared one more small, quiet moment before Leila turned around, finding Emma and Henry, still across the room near her bed, pretending quite earnestly not to watch her with Regina.

“Henry!” She exclaimed, more loudly now, rolling her shoulders back as she walked towards them. “You helped? That’s such a cool thing of you to do.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, but his pleased smile indicated how proud of himself he was. “But I figured I can move into your old room now, so it was a win-win.”

“Mhm,” Leila narrowed her eyes skeptically, ruffling his hair harshly in the way that annoyed him most, but he allowed it for once, and then she turned her attention to Emma. “And Emma. You didn’t have to...to do any of it. You’ve done so much for me, I don’t…”

Emma swallowed hard, her eyes crinkling as she tilted her head with a soft, closed-mouth smile. She was bursting to tell her the truth, but they had decided it wasn’t the time. They deserved a normal holiday for their first one together.  “Well, that’s what you do for your kid on Christmas, right?”

“Right,” Leila agreed, and she found herself facing a difficulty holding back tears; they had come unbidden so many times that she’d lost count. Emma had always been there, from the very beginning, even before she and Regina had really been together. She was the first one of them Leila had sought out, and she’d been by her side ever since. Leila didn’t know if she had the words to express how much it meant to her for Emma, who wasn’t really her mother, to treat her with the same care and devotion as she did Henry.

It was family, real and true, for the first time in her life, and she could do nothing else but throw herself into Emma’s unexpecting arms, whispering her gratitude, before Regina had crossed the room to join them. She pulled back from Emma’s embrace, glancing at her once before turning instead to hug Regina again, savoring the way she wrapped her arms around her, and the accompanying sense of home she had never expected she might feel.

“Merry Christmas,” Regina murmured into the top of her head, and Leila pulled back enough that Regina could smile down at her before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “We love you.”

The accompanying vibration in her hands was nothing compared to the literal sparks that crackled from her fingertips the moment Regina’s lips touched her skin. They burst forth, a brilliant glowing purple, and she yelped at the feeling that was entirely beyond her control.

Regina gasped, clutching her own hands together as Leila lurched away from her, shooting a look of dismay over Leila’s head to her other mother. “Emma,” she murmured, a desperate kind of plea, and Emma shook her head, both hands raised as though in surrender.

“Well, I can’t control it, I never could. You know that,” Emma argued her own defense, gesturing wildly to where a befuddled Regina stood beside an equally bewildered Leila. “It has to come from you.”

“It comes from you, you idiot,” Regina reprimanded, nearly seething in her annoyance. “I can control mine because I had to study for years to hone it. You never even bothered!”

“Regina’s right, Mom,” Henry explained calmly from his seated position on the bed, his hands folded in his lap. He had sat down to wait, letting Leila have her serious moment with them, but now it was his time to shine. “Your magic is inherent, because of your parents’ true love. Regina has it because she’s your soul magic pair.”

Emma, while she did know that Henry was quite intelligent, was thrown off by both his knowledge of the meaning of inherent and of magic. “How do you...know that?”

“What do you mean, how does he know that?” Leila cried, shaking her hands desperately to remove the tingling feeling; it still tickled, and she hated it. “He doesn’t know anything. You guys need to stop encouraging him, this is getting out of hand and it’s not-- it’s really not funny.”

“Leila, please…” Regina began, but Henry ignored her, rolled his eyes so deeply that it could have rivalled even the worst of Regina’s.

“I’ve been telling all of you this story for a year. You’d have the answers too if you had ever listened to me. I was right, wasn’t I?” The challenge in his voice demanded an answer, and Regina knew they were trapped. There could be no more pretending; Henry had always known the truth, and now Leila would too.

“Are we all high?” Leila whispered, “Are we just all on some really bad trip? Because I don’t think it’s the best idea to...I mean, Henry’s way too young for--”

“We’re not high. We never were,” Regina explained rationally, holding her hand out in a calming gesture that did little to convince Leila that no drugs had, in fact, been involved.

But still...Leila knew she hadn’t imagined the feeling in her hands earlier, or the strange, heavy feeling in her bones from the moment she’d woken up. Something was different, she just hadn’t imagined that the something could possibly be...this. Regina sighed deeply with a slight turn to the side to meet Emma’s gaze, which Leila found to be equally mysterious and not at all helpful.

“What is happening to me?” She repeated, low and serious, and it was as though her mothers came to a silent, mutual decision when Regina gestured calmly towards the bed; Leila took that to mean that she should take a seat, and so she did, Henry on the mattress beside her with his legs folded beneath him like he had been waiting his whole life for this particular storytime.

Emma and Regina stood opposite them wearing matching masks of apprehension and caution, and Regina linked her arm through Emma’s own, her palm curling around Emma’s bicep, before turning back to the children.

“We’re going to tell you the story,” Emma announced with a firm, decisive nod, and looked to Regina, who was doing the same.

“I don’t need to hear Henry’s stupid story for the thousandth time,” Leila grumbled, ignoring the indignant huff from him, somewhere just to her left, at the insult. “I want the truth.”

“My story is the truth,” Henry insisted hotly, his face turning red with the effort, and before Leila could spout the snarky rebuttal that sprang forth, Regina interrupted her, in a voice more serious than Leila had ever heard her use.

“It is the truth, and you will listen,” she commanded, and Leila, rendered dumbstruck by her sincerity, found that she didn’t have the power to argue beneath the weight of that tone, “because this is your story too.” Regina paused, glancing once more at Emma, whose face was equally resolute. “Our story. The story of how I met your mother and how we fell in love.”

Though Leila made no change of expression, still firmly believing herself to be hallucinating, Henry’s face lit up at the final, satisfying confirmation that he had been right all along, but he didn’t dare interrupt Regina for fear of missing out.

“And also how your idiot mother ran off to war and almost got herself killed,” Regina added briskly, yanking her arm from Emma’s hold and folding it beneath the other against her chest, shooting a reproving look at Emma’s indignant response.

“To save both of you!” She disputed Regina’s allegation, disbelieving and argumentative. She turned her attention back to both Henry and Leila, pointing an accusing finger towards Regina. “Can we talk about your idiot mother who cast a curse?”

“Which is the reason we’re all here and alive and together right now!” Regina sputtered scornfully, resisting the urge to stamp her foot in frustration. “Because you could never just listen to me, could you? No, you had to sneak off in the middle of the night and--”

“I was good, okay? I trained for years! I could have won that war and then you’d never have had to--I commanded an army!”

“You ran away from your army,” Regina corrected, barely suppressing the doubtful laugh that she knew would make Emma go hot all over with indignance at the implication. “You were sixteen and flighty at best. You were more concerned about playing with me than--”

“This is the worst story ever,” Henry commented from the side of his mouth to Leila, his brow furrowed in confusion, to which Leila just shook her head, waving her hand in the direction of their bickering parents as though to dismiss them.

“It’s fine, Henry, they’re not real,” she reassured him, using her other hand to pat his knee in a gesture of comfort. “We’re going to wake up any minute now.”

“You see what you did?” Regina hissed, smacking Emma on the arm lightly with the back of her hand. “Now she isn’t going to believe us!”

“Well she might have believed us if you wouldn’t have decided to turn it into some self-important lecture about--”

“Will you both just shut up?!” Leila exclaimed, and she gasped when in the split second it took her to do so, purple sparks flew from her fingertips again, and though Regina opened her mouth to reprimand her, no sound came out. Her face dropped, annoyance radiating from her features, and with a quick turn to see that Emma, too, seemed unable to speak, she waved her hand casually over her own throat and then Emma’s in turn. Leila’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Well then,” Regina sighed, and the reproach with which she regarded the confused girl actually made her cower. “Now will you let us explain?”

Emma cleared her throat, rubbing it gently as her voice returned to her, and stated, quite plainly. “We think it might be time for us to tell you the Tale of the White Knight and the Lost Princess.”

 

\--------

 

“And so there you have it,” Emma finished, brushing her hands together lightly as though she’d just completed some very daunting task. “Questions?”

Regina had pulled Leila’s desk chair into the middle of the room, perching against its edge with her ankles crossed beneath it and her hands folded in her lap, and Leila thought with a derisive snort that it finally made sense that her mother could seem so inexplicably regal at times. Emma stood behind her, one hand on Regina’s shoulder, as they both regarded them expectantly.

"I knew it!" Henry exclaimed smugly, the sheer validation and relief shining through. "I knew it was real and I knew the two of you had true love and I knew Leila was really yours. The book was right."

"So wait, we all have magic?” Leila asked, still disbelieving despite the proof that she held quite literally in her hands. “It's a real thing, and...and Henry's book isn't fiction and you're both," she whispered, as though anyone else in the world might suddenly hear them. "Witches?"

"I don't know if I'd call us witches," Emma shrugged, looking down to Regina for confirmation because it wasn't exactly the right word, and Regina had done all the reading and studying possible. "But the magic thing is real, yes. You have your mom's aura signature, the purple, but the electricity part is like mine."

"Right," Henry commented knowingly, nodding along. "Because the two of you made a true love baby like Grandma and Grandpa did with you, Mom. Leila's magic would be inherent too."

"Except,” Regina began, holding one finger out to physically indicate the pause, and then continued, “you're going to study like I did and actually learn to control your magic. There's no need to ‘wing it’ just because your mother is lazy when it comes to her gifts. It’s only electric because she doesn’t know how to use it."

Leila looked between both of them, still more than a little confused. "So you're both...my birth certificate wasn't wrong?"

"I built a fail safe into the curse so that we would all be reunited, especially if you were somehow taken from us. I didn’t know what it would look like in a new land, but there should always have been a record, a root from us to you. You're--yes, you’re our baby." She looked adoringly from Leila to Emma with a soft sigh, as if everything was right in the world again.

"Can I...blow things up?"

Emma laughed; she could certainly, at least, blow up a moment. "Regina can light things on fire, and I don't think I've ever blown anything up, but every time I kiss her there's that electricity?"

Regina rolled her eyes, but placed her hand lovingly over Emma’s that still rested on her shoulder. "Energy. Pure, vibrational, elemental energy. Which she would know if she ever bothered to…”

She let the end of her sentence drop, and with a squeeze to Emma’s hand, she removed her own and held it aloft in the space between herself and the bed, palm up; after a moment’s concentration, a brightly burning ball of fire appeared with a roar, hovering within her grasp. Leila jumped back, alarmed, but Henry cheered, and Emma couldn’t be bothered with either reaction; she was more disgruntled by Regina’s showing off than anything.

"Okay, we get it.” She sighed, knocking Regina’s shoulder lightly with her hand to make the flame extinguish. “I wasted my gifts, you embraced them. You're better in every way."

“That's not actually true," Henry replied, recovering from his delighted shock. "Regina can do magic because she was born to complete your magical half. She was destined for you. But Leila's magic is the most powerful of all of you. She's your third, and magic thrives on threes. Plus, she's the product of true love, too."

“Three is a magically powerful number, as it’s indivisible,” Regina agreed, and looked to him with insurmountable pride. "See? The benefit of appropriate studying and effort. Knowledge. My genius little prince."

“Wait, I do have a question,” Leila blurted out suddenly, and the pained look on her face indicated that she wasn’t exactly comfortable with asking. “I get the whole...magic element, or whatever, but I don’t...really get how you can both, you know...be my mother. Biologically.”

It was worded very nearly the same as an argument she had made once to Henry when he had dared to suggest this theory; she had never imagined she would be asking them to actually explain how it might be true. Emma, who had been confident about most of her answers thus far, went quite pale at the question, almost squirming as she met Regina’s gaze, who Leila noticed was also squirming uncomfortably.

“Well, you know…” Emma began awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck as she struggled to compose an explanation. “When two people are in love, and…”

“No, I’ve had that talk,” Leila cringed, already regretting that she had decided to ask. “But according to that one, most of what you’re telling me doesn’t...isn’t possible, so…”

“Well, you know how babies are made, obviously,” Regina jumped in, much more bravely than she felt, and her fingers twisted together nervously in her lap. “And obviously you were...created by magic, and magic is, as you now know, released, usually….through, through your hands...your fingers, so--”

“Okay, okay, nevermind, I don’t--forget I asked,” Leila begged hastily, squeezing her eyes shut. She shook her head, and when she opened them, she noted both Regina and Emma looked physically relieved.

“To be fair, we didn’t know at the time that we were a soul magic pair,” Regina explained, her voice a little more even as she returned to a topic with which she was comfortable. “Or even that we could possibly have True Love as well. We didn’t find that out until much later, so we didn’t...know we could even create a--well, create you.”

“Oh man, did you get knocked up the first time?” Leila cried, her face crumpling in sympathy for Regina. “That’s terrible. I feel a little bad about that.”

“Knocked up?” Henry interjected, looking to Emma for an explanation as his expression turned from confusion to anger. “Did you hit her?”

“This is not the time to have that conversation,” Emma complained, slapping a hand against her face, and Leila bit back a laugh before taking pity on Emma and changing the subject.

"I don't want to be powerful though, or magical.” She decided. "I just want to be a normal teenager with a normal family. I’m even cool with unconventional! But magical? This is all so... surreal."

"See?" Emma agreed, nodding vigorously. "That's how I felt. I just wanted a grand adventure across all the realms and kingdoms. I wanted freedom from castle life and royal responsibilities, knight training, all of it. I just wanted to hang out with your mom all day every day and be happy."

"That's not exactly--none of this is normal!” Leila huffed, though she couldn’t stop the amused smile at Emma’s rant. She’d clearly intended to commiserate, but with no concept of how dissimilar their situations were. “Realms and kingdoms and magic and true love and princesses. Oh god, am I a princess?"

"Technically?"

"This is a nightmare.”

“It could be worse, you know,” Henry replied, a chill in his tone that none of them had ever heard before. He jumped up, his fists balled up by his sides.“You could be the only person in a magical family that believes in magic but doesn’t have any.”

Regina reached out to him, overcome with a sudden guilt that turned her stomach, but he had already escaped as quickly as he could down the ladder. She stood quickly and turned to face Emma in dismay, her arms splayed out as she shrugged, at a clear loss. “Should we go after him?”

“I think you should go and talk to him,” Emma decided quietly. “It always worked when he was a baby. He’ll be okay, but you’re the one he’ll want."

Regina nodded, a hand pressed to her forehead in concern, the other resting against her hip as she paced beside the open space above the ladder entrance. “Emma, he can’t...we can’t let him suffer for this. He didn’t ask for it. It’s not his fault.”

With one last distressed sigh, she followed him down, and as she disappeared, Emma closed her eyes and breathed out a long, harrowed exhale. She fell back onto Leila’s bed, her body bouncing back gently, and spread her arms wide, attempting to stretch the stress out of her limbs. This wasn’t at all the way she had hoped telling them the truth would go, but at least, she supposed, it could definitely have gone worse.

“So...you really are my mom, huh?” Leila asked softly, sitting gingerly on the end of the bed near where Emma’s legs hung off. Emma pushed herself up on her elbows to look at her, and Leila’s heart swelled at the love radiating from Emma’s smile.

“I am,” Emma confirmed, and her face dropped the tiniest bit as she tacked on, “Disappointed?”

“No. I’m lucky,” Leila replied, and while she expected perhaps another hug, she couldn’t help but laugh at the completely Emma fist bump she received instead.

 

\--------

 

Regina found him exactly where she had expected him to be; sitting on the floor of the closet in his bedroom, the book propped open in his lap, a flashlight illuminating the words she knew he had long since memorized.

The fact that Henry had been right all along, that he’d believed in them when he had every logical reason not to, made her stomach twist again with some sort of mild guilt. It wasn’t that any of them had been rude or dismissive of his theories, necessarily, but Regina thought back on every opportunity he’d given them to listen, and remembered that they had rarely been anything more than patronizing. And of course she would never have believed herself to be a fairy tale princess from a land long lost while operating under a curse, but with a sudden, new set of memories sixteen years before the last, it all made a kind of perfect sense.

“Henry?” She called out as she tentatively pushed the door to his room open, padding across the carpet to join him on the floor. She sat calmly, her legs crossed in front of her the same way his were, and waited patiently for him to look up at her. When he never did, however, choosing to focus intently on the pages beneath his fingers, she reached out to place her hand atop his. He allowed the contact, but remained determinedly looking away.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” Henry insisted quietly, and though he tried to hide it, Regina could feel the hurt in his voice. “It’s all so stupid. What’s the point of believing?”

“Henry,” Regina repeated, patient and kind, and as she squeezed his hand gently beneath her own, he finally looked up to meet her imploring gaze. “What can I do to make this better for you?”

“Nothing,” he responded harshly, and she deflated, backing away to sit tall against the side of his bed and give him space. A few moments of tense silence passed, and she had almost closed her eyes when he startled her by breaking it. “How long have you known? How did you break the curse?”

“We didn’t break it, necessarily,” Regina explained cautiously, as she truly didn’t know how it had broken. “We just woke up this morning and...we knew, I suppose. Like we’ve been asleep for sixteen years and now we’re awake.”

“And you have all of your memories?”

“Everything,” Regina confirmed, reaching out to flip through the pages of his book backwards as though she knew them quite well; it was the first time Henry considered that maybe she did. “I remember growing up in the Enchanted Forest and running away from home. I remember meeting your mother and I remember casting the curse. And then I remember my life here. I suppose that’s why I have very few, and only fuzzy memories from the time before Leila was born in this realm. They were never real. I just never knew why. Until now.”

“I guess that makes sense,” he accepted, much more comfortable now that he didn’t have to feel like the only one who took this whole story seriously. “But that does mean that Leila is yours and my mom’s kid.”

“Well...yes,” Regina agreed, because it was true, and there was no use in saying otherwise. “But we’ve always operated that way, because of her ridiculous birth certificate and the custody arrangement we were given. That she became both of ours. As you came to be, too.”

“That’s different though,” Henry argued, the words tumbling from his lips as though he’d known exactly what she was going to say, and he was prepared with his rebuttal. “Those were just circumstances that made her yours, but now--” he stumbled over his words as he tried not to cry. “Now it’s real. Leila gets to be part of both of you and I don’t.”

“Do you think that because I didn’t give birth to you I’m any less...that I’m not...I thought--I thought we’d--” Regina faltered, unsure how to continue, before he jumped in to save her from the effort.

“No, I do! I do. I have my dad and I have my mom and I have you now, and it feels the same. But--”

“But nothing, Henry. I held you moments after you were born. I was there. You slept in my room for the first four months of your life! We cooked together late almost every night because you hated sleeping. Except when it was in my arms.”

“I...I did?” Henry frowned, and it looked to Regina like he might be struggling to remember a time before his memory would allow. She smiled sadly, reaching out to stroke his cheek, reddened by frustration, with the backs of her fingers.

“I’ve loved you the same way as I loved Leila your entire life, even if I wasn’t always there. We shared something special that I’ll,” Regina looked down at the ground, blinking back the tears she was becoming quite exhausted of ignoring. “We share something that I never got to with Leila. So, yes, we created her but I helped raise you.”

“But,” Henry interrupted, unleashing the strongest point that he felt he had left to argue. “The three of you get to be a whole family now, and I’m still just...extra.”

“Henry, we’re a whole family because of you. If you hadn’t believed in the curse and pushed us to break it, where would we be?” She urged him. “Don’t you realize that you’re the savior?”

“No, no,” Henry insisted, flipping back through several pages fervently until he found the specific passage he was looking for. “The savior is the child of the White Knight and the Lost Princess.”

“Is that not...what you are?” Regina questioned him, confused. She was startled by the sudden way he threw the book aside, jumping up with renewed purpose and began to pace the length of his bedroom before her.

“That’s Leila.” Henry reasoned, thinking aloud to line up the facts for the both of them. “She’s yours and my mom’s. You would have had her in the Enchanted Forest and then...and then…”

“Then we’d never have needed a savior,” Regina finished for him quietly, watching his face change as the pieces clearly fit together in his mind. “And then there would never have been you. And we needed you, Henry. We needed to love you. I did.”

It was surreal to Regina, sometimes, that some of the most mature conversations she ever had were with her ten-year-old son.

“But if you did love us, then you left us, and you don’t leave people when you love them.”

He said it like it was an insurmountable truth, and Regina didn’t know if she had the words to explain to him what it meant to come back. An idea struck her then, and as he paused in front of her, breathing heavily after the passion of his argument, she gathered the book into her lap and caught his eye.

“You’re right, Henry.” She nodded. “I did leave. But I’d hoped that when you were old enough, you’d read the pages of that book of fairy tales and remember everything about how I loved you.”

“You...gave me that book? But even my mom didn’t know where it came from.” He narrowed his eyes, suspicious, and stepped slightly back and away from her. “I don’t believe you.”

“Oh no?” She countered breezily, pushing herself up onto her knees with the book still clutched in one hand. “Have you read the last page?”

Henry, who had clearly resisted the urge to roll his eyes dramatically, settled instead for looking at her like she might be unbelievably stupid. “It’s blank, it’s always been blank, you know that.”

Regina quirked an eyebrow in question at him as she stood to her full height. “The very last one? Maybe you should look again. But first, I want to show you something.”

And without waiting for his response, she strode confidently from the room entirely, leaving a confused Henry to trail after her down the stairs and in the direction of the family room. When they arrived, Henry a few steps behind her the whole way, she lifted the small, black picture frame from where it still lie face-down on the table. She handed it to him, and his eyes widened in surprise as he absorbed the details of the picture of the two of them.

“This is me?” He gasped, looking up at Regina in disbelief, and she nodded with a soft, tender smile. “But...your hair is so long.”

“Everyone has been really preoccupied by my hair today,” Regina complained, reaching up with one hand to run her fingers through it absentmindedly. “I like it like this.”

“It’s...whatever, it’s just hair,” Henry shrugged, looking between the version of her in the photograph and the version standing before him expectantly. “I just mean you look different. But happy, I guess. Like a mom.”

“I felt like one,” Regina mused quietly, wistfully, “And that's why I had to leave. You’ll see, if you look in your book.”

Henry didn’t know exactly where she was going when she left the room quite suddenly; the women in his life had a tendency to disappear without warning, and he supposed this was no more than one of those times. He had gotten all that he needed from her for the moment, and so he plopped down to the floor beside the Christmas tree, the book almost opening for him of its own accord to his usual place. He might as well humor her, he figured, though he knew full well that the last page was, and always had been, blank. What he hadn’t noticed though, until now, it seemed, was the tiniest fold on the top right corner of the page.

How he had never thought to look on the back of it, he wasn’t sure, but at the first sight of Regina’s familiar, elegant scrawl, he knew that something was about to change.

 

> _My little prince,_
> 
> _We share a bond, little one. One that I never expected to have, especially not with the son of Emma Swan. But nevertheless, you've become so special and dear to me and it kills me inside to have to say goodbye. I wish I had enough excuses in the world to make leaving you okay, but I don’t._
> 
> _Someday far from now, maybe you’ll read this and maybe you won’t. Maybe this book will have saved you in the same way it did me. Maybe you’ll remember our long talks about the oceans and the skies and the stars and how each one of them twinkles and beacons you to discover them. Each new world contained in them is full of hope and dreams and a magic as beautiful as you are, just as the stories in your book. You just have to be brave enough to believe._
> 
> _The only explanation I can give for leaving you is one I’ve struggled with since the earliest days that I can remember. How completely in love with your mother I have been and will always be. And that I would be completely content in loving her--and now you-- until I am very old. The love I have for her goes unshared, however, and I hope that you never have to learn how awful that feels. It’s too heavy of a burden to carry alone. To feel so alone. I wish I could be stronger for you, but you have a wonderful mother and a wonderful father and a wonderful heart and I know you are destined to become someone great, with or without me._
> 
> _My destiny was set long ago and I must run as fast as I can in whatever direction I can to get away from this place and your mother and I suppose, now, you. There was never supposed to be another piece of her for me to love, but here you are and here it is, blazing as hot and as fierce as the sun. That is why you are my little sunshine price._
> 
> _My love for you will never die. You were not my first baby, but you were the first sweet little one I had the privilege of getting to know, and that love will never be put out or dulled or lose any of its brilliance. Please live a life of wonder and curiosity and blind faith of the good in people. Don't let losing me change who you will become. For our time together may have been short, but my love for you is infinite._
> 
> _Grow to be a strong man someday. Protect your mother, love her and know that she won’t always get things right, but that her heart is always as pure and as beautiful as she is. I hope that you’ll remember our late night songs and all the constellations and when you look to the sky or the ocean, they call to you like they do to me and you’ll remember me a little bit too. I will think of you every time I search for peace in them and send you a little wish and hope it reaches you. Never stop searching. Never stop reading. Never stop believing. Never stop dreaming._
> 
> _I love you._
> 
>  

Henry didn’t know what to feel as he slammed the book closed. Regina hadn’t been making it up; she couldn’t have been. He’d had the book in his room for as long as he could remember, since before he could remember. She had loved him, and she had loved his mom, and eventually, she had come back to them.

And now there was Leila; perhaps not the savior of their fairy tale, but certainly the savior of his own story. His heart hammered wildly against his chest and his mind raced with possibility. Maybe he had been right to believe all along.

Maybe he, too, would get to have a little magic.

 

\--------

 

Leila thought that her logic was flawless, but Emma seemed less than impressed by it as she marched ahead of the girl into the kitchen, intent to find first Henry and then Regina, if not together.

“I’m just saying, if you can do magic, there’s no reason it’s not possible,” Leila persisted, following Emma in a circle around the island.

“Let me break down everything that’s wrong with that idea,” Emma began, peeking through the door into the backyard to be sure that the other half of their family hadn’t ventured out into the snow as the sun began to set. “First of all, Regina’s the one to go to if you want any kind of actual magic done. She’s right, I’m powerful, but useless. And secondly, we don’t know anything about how the rest of the town has reacted to the curse breaking yet. And finally?” She punctuated her third argument with a pointed look at Leila, who was rifling through the refrigerator hopelessly. “There’s no magic in this, or any, realm powerful enough to make Granny open the diner on Christmas.”

“But I want a grilled cheese,” Leila complained, slamming the doors shut one after the other. “Is that so much to ask?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t have one,” Emma shrugged, falling into one of the chairs at the table and folding her arms on its surface. “Just that you couldn’t make Granny do it. Ask your mother.”

“I did ask her,” Leila countered smoothly, smirking at an indignant Emma, who scoffed in annoyance. “She said to ask you.”

“Liar. You haven’t seen her,” Emma knew, and she gasped in realization before warning her, “You will not trap us in an endless loop of ‘go ask your mother.’”

“Well, you should’ve thought of that before you knocked up your girlfriend and gave me two moms,” Leila shrugged, unbothered, and set about gathering an unopened loaf of bread and several different kinds of sliced cheese onto the island, along with a stick of butter.

“You don’t get to use that against us either!” Emma blurted out, offended. She rose from her seat and chose instead one of the taller bar stools at the island in order to be closer to her. “I didn’t knock her up. We were...it’s soul magic! True love!”

“Oh, sure, the ‘true love’ excuse,” Leila rolled her eyes, placing a non-stick pan on a burner and slicing a pat of butter to spread across a piece of bread. “I’ve heard that one before. No wonder you got pregnant as a teenager.”

“It was a different time,” Emma huffed, and it was with renewed focus that Emma concentrated on the slice of bread Leila had in her hand, and with a flourished wave of her hand, she did her best to toast it by magic. What she did, instead, was promptly set it on fire.

“Ah!” Leila screeched, tossing the burning item across the room and directly into the sink. It hadn’t hurt her, necessarily, but it did alarm her, and she turned back to a dumbfounded, stricken Emma. “So...I guess you can set things on fire too?”

“What is going on in here?”

Regina appeared through the swinging kitchen door, a demanding, apprehensive look about her as she glanced between Emma and Leila while waiting for an answer. Henry, nonplussed, brushed right past her, hopping up beside Emma onto another stool, curling into her side as she hugged him fiercely.

“I wanted a grilled cheese sandwich,” Leila explained, looking forlornly at the smoke still rising from the bread lying within the sink. “Emma was going to magic me one.”

“That’s not exactly how it--”

“Honestly,” Regina sighed, and try as she might, she couldn’t suppress the irritated, yet affectionate way she stole a glance at Emma before waving her own hand with a similar little flourish, and a perfectly toasted, warm sandwich appeared on the empty plate in front of Leila. “If you want your bread toasted, there are far better ways than asking Emma to electrocute it.”

Even Emma laughed, and Regina took over for Leila without even saying anything, carefully buttering six pieces of bread to make an additional three sandwiches. Sure, she could have conjured them as well, but this was precisely where she liked to be. In her kitchen, just as the sun was setting, preparing a snack surrounded by her family, who were bickering and laughing and teasing each other like it wasn’t still Christmas, like they hadn’t just broken an other-wordly curse, like it was any other night.

Maybe, Regina thought, that had been the real magic all along.

“Emma, why don’t you make the hot chocolate?” She suggested, because what kind of parents would they be if they didn’t make up for scarring them emotionally by making Leila’s favorite food and Henry’s favorite drink? And besides, it was Regina’s favorite thing to see Emma spring into action, making anything happen right beside her. In this world or any other, that was where she belonged.

Leila hopped up onto Emma’s unoccupied seat beside Henry, watching the way Emma slowly warmed the milk, melted the chocolate, stirred in the cinnamon, just the way Regina had taught them all. She smiled, and Regina smiled back, and Henry laughed at a silly face Emma pulled while Regina wasn’t looking, and Leila’s whole body ached in a specific way at the thought that they might somehow have all missed this.

Emma moved around Regina, perfectly in sync, and Leila tried to imagine them the way they might have been in Henry’s book as he’d described them for months; them, their world, their fairy tale life. She imagined the Regina of the story, who rode horses across kingdoms in secret, a rebellious bandit on the run with impeccable magic who had stolen a princess’s heart. She pictured Emma, that very same princess, escaping her royal life for the promise of an adventure, deciding at sixteen to declare war on a neighboring kingdom, backed by the strength of her father’s army. It was hard to rectify those images with the women standing before her, pouring hot chocolate and cutting the crusts off of sandwiches, and she couldn’t help but wonder what his story might sound like coming not from the book, but from them.

“If Henry’s boring book was right all along, I don’t want the bullshit Disney version,” Leila decided, and Regina looked up from where she was delicately maneuvering a knife down the center of the last sandwich to cut it in half. “I want the Game of Thrones version. I want to know everything. I want to know exactly how cool my life could have been.”

“It’s a lot cooler this way, literally,” Emma commented, spooning marshmallow fluff into the bottom of a mug. “Central air. Indoor plumbing. WiFi.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Leila waved her hand dismissively, and Henry was nodding profusely his support of her request. “Check your privilege, blah blah, we get it. Tell us everything.”

“Our story?” Emma prompted, glancing at Regina for confirmation, who nodded with a secret smile. “Okay, here we go. ‘The Tale of the White Knight and How She Saved the Realm.”

Regina snorted as she passed full, steaming mugs across the island. “More like ‘The Tale of How the Lost Princess Saved the White Knight’s Ass from Certain Death.’"

“How about, ‘The Tale of the Lost Princess and her Enormous Attitude’ --”

“You’re doing it again,” Henry complained, shooting Emma a reproving glare, and she sighed in defeat, though it was with a soft smile and a twinkle of mirth in her eye.   
  
“Alright, you’re right. So...once upon another time,” Emma began, and Leila interrupted her immediately.

“Isn’t it ‘once upon a time’?”

“Do you want to tell the story?” Emma huffed, impatient before she’d even begun. “Anyway. Once upon another time…”

And so Emma launched into the tale, capturing the enraptured attention of Henry, Leila, and even Regina, who had lived it; and while Regina had listened to Henry spin it a thousand times, she would listen a thousand more if it meant she got to relive her own fairy tale alongside her brilliant, magical children as it was told to them by the princess who’d been her own White Knight, in this and every other story ever told.  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you have found yourself here, I couldn't possibly thank you enough for reading all of this. I hope you've enjoyed this story as much as I have enjoyed creating it. Thank you also for allowing it to live inside your head instead of mine for a while. 
> 
> If you're wondering why the last chapter feels a little vague, you can find the answers to your questions both in the epilogue to this story called "Between the Lines" and then in the subsequent prequel that will be released following the epilogue called "Once Upon Another Time." 
> 
> Until then! xoxo

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [a thousand things [Fanart]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15795930) by [em_jaied](https://archiveofourown.org/users/em_jaied/pseuds/em_jaied)




End file.
